Family is Who You'll Kill For
by ChaosLilKat
Summary: Fifth Arrow/SPN Crossover: - Sam gets a late night call from a desperate Felicity informing him of Oliver's trip to face Ra's al Ghul. She's not willing to stand by and let Oliver go by himself and Dig is standing firm on following Oliver's orders, Roy's not skilled enough so that leaves Oliver's last to allies, The Boys.
1. When I Love You Means Nothing But Pain

"..and the second one is, I love you," Oliver said. That should have made her happy but it only infuriated and saddened her.

Once he left she collapsed into her chair and had to grip the sides to keep from punching her computer screens in frustration. "Great, say you love me right before you head off to get killed, again. You think you're being noble and heroic but you're being a complete and utter moron. The League wants Sara's killer, they already hate Merlyn, problem solved Oliver! Thea will get over Merlyn dying especially when she finds out the truth, you never give her enough credit! I love how you never seem to notice that everyone you protect with your lies has ended up worse off than if you'd just told them the damn truth to begin with," She forced herself to take a deep breath, "And Dig just sits here and let's you go. I know he has a family but he could be back up, go on a different plane. I have no idea what has happened to either of you. We used to work together!" Pain shot up her arm as she hit the top of the table without even realizing it, "Ow! Well I'm not going to abandon you as much as you want us all to. Screw that!" She turned on the tracking device that she had slipped into his bag when he'd turned away from it while packing. "Oliver Queen, if you honestly think I am letting you out of my sight you haven't learned a single thing about me over the last two years. Which is something we are going to have a very extended, loud and in depth conversation about when you get back. Now I just have to make sure you make it back."

As the green beacon blinked on her screen while he rode farther and farther away from her and closer to whatever pain Ra's was going to inflict she wracked her brain for ideas on how to help him. ARGUS wouldn't want to get involved, Roy was an amateur and Barry wouldn't have the first clue on how to deal with the violence that the League could bring. The very short list of Oliver's allies narrowed down to two, she knew they would say yes, as much as they deserved some peace in their lives.

"Call Sam," she told her phone, already feeling guilty for bringing a whole other load of turmoil to the door of the Winchesters.

Sam hadn't gotten a full night's sleep since saving Dean from his demon side, he'd made a point to check in on his brother several times each night. At first things seemed as normal as it got for them, Dean would sleep through the night as well as he could, but then as time went on Sam would find his room empty. The first few times it happened panic raced through him as a myriad of possibilities for what his brother could be doing ran through his mind. Was he out killing? Had he given up? His first thought had been to race to the garage and see if Baby as still there but he usually ended up running into Dean in the kitchen or the archives reading. Dean would blow it off as he wasn't all that tired, he knew the lie of it but allowed Dean to keep up the facade. The last few weeks, after Charlie, things had changed. He found his brother at the underground gun range more and more, shooting round after round into paper targets or training with knives, something they had never done in the past. He was becoming less and less Dean, Sam could see things slowly slip away. The humor, the willingness to fight against all the odds, the confidence he'd always had even if half of it was sheer bluster, it was all being chipped away by the Mark. What worried Sam the most was how the weapons seemed to call to Dean more and more, there was no reason for him to spend hours shooting or stabbing things. He often wondered if he would wake up one night and find Dean standing over him, gun in hand, eyes cold as he pulled the trigger.

He saw Felicity's number pop up on his phone as he made his way to the gun range, Dean wasn't in his room again and Sam heard the muffled echos of Dean's 1911 firing over and over again. "Hi. What's up?"

"Sam.." He sounded exhausted which made her feel worse, "I'm sorry to call so late."

"It's fine, I wasn't asleep. You sound upset, is Oliver okay?"

"No, his sister's father used her to kill his ex-girlfriend to draw attention away from him because of the price on his head thanks to the Undertaking and now Oliver is on his way to go fight the leader of the League of Assassins and say he killed Sara when he didn't so his sister won't lose another father."

"Uh...I think I need a whole pot of coffee before I can comprehend all of that. Think you can break that down, give me names and explain how all of this happened. It sort of sounds like a cross between bad daytime TV and a convuluted comic book plot."

"Sorry, it's a long story."

"How about this," he offered, "Let's start with why you're calling Dean and I about this. It doesn't sound like there's a supernatural threat going on." He turned down the hall and stopped in front of the door to the range. There was only one door in and out so at least he knew where Dean was and that he wouldn't be going anywhere.

She hesitated, "I don't have anyone else to ask for help. I'm so sorry."

He was confused, "What about Dig? Or that new guy we saw the outfit for last time we were in town?"

"I," she sighed and started to explain everything to him, who Thea's father really was, the League and how their lives had all spiraled out of control over the last few months.

He leaned against the wall and slowly sank to the floor in utter amazement as he listened to all the twists and turns their lives had taken recently. "Wow, I thought Dean and I had it rough," he said when she finished. "So let me get this straight, Thea, Oliver's sister, didn't have a clue this whole time? Then her real father turns out to be the guy that wiped out half the Glades and is training her to be a killer but she still hasn't made the connection that Oliver is Arrow?"

"Right."

"So, evil Dad is using his daughter as a pawn to keep himself from getting killed and throwing Oliver to the wolves."

"Yes."

"And neither Oliver or Dig thought the best plan would be just to serve evil Dad up so he pays for what he did?"

"Dig and I did and still do, but Oliver said no."

He shook his head in disbelief, "And Dig just let him go?"

"Yeah."

"What the hell is going on with ya'll? Don't you have tranq arrows or something to knock Oliver the hell out so you can lock him up somewhere while you guys do what's right since he's being an idiot? He'd forgive you after a few days."

She laughed a bitter, tired laugh, "I thought about it, trust me, but the League put us on a deadline and not even Oliver can take Malcolm in a straight fight."

"Then you fight dirty," Sam stated, "So you want Dean and I to somehow rescue Oliver? You are aware Dean is deathly afraid of flying right?" That was hardly the reason he wanted to keep Dean as far away from this as he could but he wasn't all that keen on telling her about the Mark.

"No I didn't know that." Her voice lost the last bit of hope that he'd heard struggling to hold onto throughout their conversation.

He leaned his head against the wall wishing that this had happened before the Mark. It still wouldnn't have been their thing but at least he wouldn't have had to turn her down completely. "Look, things haven't been all that great here. Dean's dealing with some things that have made life a lot more complicated than usual. We're working on it but I am trying to keep him out of fights, they just make it worse. I'm sorry Felicity, we just...well we can't right now."

"Oh, I'm sorry Sam. I didn't know...it's okay." Her voice shook but he could tell she was trying to muster some sort of courage to push her fears back down. "I'll figure something out, thanks anyway. I hope Dean gets better."

"Thanks, and Oliver will make it through. He's tough, you know that." It sounded so hollow, so weak.

"Yeah. Well get some sleep."

"You too, keep in touch." He didn't want her to feel completely alone through this.

"I will. Bye."

She hung up and the door to the gun range opened. He hadn't noticed the sound of bullets flying had stopped.

Dean stood there, the look in his eyes somewhere between desperate and empty but his hand was rock solid, "I heard some of that. Oliver's in trouble?"

"Yeah but it's not our thing and..." he left it hanging.

A hint of the old Dean whispered across his face, "Tell me anyway. Take my mind off of it."

Sam wasn't sure if he was happy that Dean was being more upfront about the Mark's effects on him or not. Part of him wished he could pretend that nothing was wrong. "No, it will just make you want to help and you don't need to be out getting attacked by assassins." More than a hint of bloodlust sharpened Dean's features and caused his hand to twitch towards the gun that was tucked into his jeans. "Dean?"

"I'm fine..." He broke off and looked away and down the hall, "You can tell me or I can just call her back."

"Why are you being stubborn about this? We don't have enough on our plate?" The next words Dean said chilled him to the bone.

"It's getting worse. Crowley kept me on an even keel by sending those Abaddon's groupies for me. He said if I didn't kill I would be taken over by the demon. I know the demon's gone but the Mark still wants me to kill." When Dean's eyes met his again they were filled with fear, "It's trying to take me over just like my demon side did and I don't want it to be you. Why do you think I spend hours down here now? I can't sleep anymore, the urge, the need..."

"These aren't some street thugs, these are trained killers that Oliver's tangling with. You know how good Oliver is in a fight, these guys apparently make him look like an amateur. It's suicide Dean. No, no way. We'll find some vamp or something you can take down if you need to kill to quiet the Mark, not an entire league of assassins." He stood up and started to walk down the hall away from Dean.

"I still owe him," Dean stated, "For helping you after I got dragged to Hell. Helping Flash didn't count towards that."

"Bullshit." Sam snapped over his shoulder as he continued to walk away, "You're reaching for excuses. No." He heard Dean's footsteps behind him then a rough arm propelled him into the wall and he was face to face with the killer that used to be his brother.

"Finding a vamp could take weeks," Dean growled, "I just went through about a hundred rounds of ammo and it didn't help. I don't have weeks Sam. Help me."

He didn't move, Dean's other hand was less than an inch from the grip of his gun. "These are people Dean, we don't kill people." He had to try one more time.

Dean's eyes narrowed, "They are people who kill other people for money. That makes them monsters in my book."

"Look, let's go sit down and I'll tell you everything, promise. Oh, and we'll probably have to fly to get there." That made the killer recede from his brother's eyes and his hands dropped away from the gun and Sam's shoulder.

"Fly? You didn't say that."

Even though the situation really didn't call for it he laughed, "So that's how we get the Mark to shut up? Threaten you with a plane flight?"

Dean shifted his weight and the first grin Sam had seen in weeks tugged at the corners of his mouth, "Nice to know my fear of dying in a fiery plane crash serves some purpose."

He gripped Dean's shoulder and they fell into step as they walked towards the kitchen and coffee. "Silver lining Dean, everything has one."


	2. Loopholes and Longshots

Sam gave his brother the entire Oliver saga as they sipped their coffee. Dean's head shaking grew progressively more pronounced along with an ever increasing amount of sheer disbelief. "You know, we have had some pretty crazy times but wow, man, just wow," Dean finally said when Sam's story came to an end.

"Yeah, I know. Who'd of thought coming back from the dead repeatedly would seem the more believable story?"

"Oliver really never catches a break does he? Poor guy," Dean leaned back in his chair, the other presence totally faded from view as he tried to process everything Sam had told him. "Well, the most logical thing would be to turn this Merlyn guy over to this League. Right? If he's the one that has them all hot and bothered once they have him the heat should be off Oliver and his sister."

"One would think."

""The first thing we should do is to talk to Dig, find out why he's letting Oliver do this alone," Dean said. "That and figure out where Oliver is headed. Maybe we can convince Dig to head him off."

Sam shook his head, "Oliver's almost as stubborn as you are. Dig would probably have to take some serious steps to keep Oliver from going through with this plan."

"Wait, has he left the country yet?"

"Not sure, " Sam shrugged, "I can text Felicity and ask. Why?"

"We could call him, see if we can't talk him down."

The fact that Dean offered that gave Sam some hope, which quickly came crashing down when he thought of how a call from them butting into Oliver's business could backfire on Felicity and Dig's friendship with Oliver. "Um, probably not the best idea. If we called out of the blue and told Oliver that Felicity had just spilled all this to us he's not liable to take that too well and Felicity would probably be pretty pissed at us too."

Dean raised an eyebrow and half shrugged with his left shoulder, "Anything we do to help is going to end up with Oliver finding out we know. Felicity had to know that when she called."

"True, I guess."

Dean pulled out his phone, punched a number and it started ringing, "He may not even answer," he said as he put the phone on speaker.

"Dean." Oliver's voice was much more empty and resigned then they remembered. "Not a good time, I'm just leaving for a business trip."

"Yeah we heard," Dean replied, "Going off to hopefully not get yourself killed on some random island. By the way, what is it with you and remote islands anyway?"

There was silence from Oliver's end, and it stretched long enough that the brothers thought Oliver had hung up on them. "Felicity?" He finally said.

"Now don't get mad at her," Sam said, "She called us because she's worried and scared that you won't make it back."

"Plus it sounds like things have been pretty tense there lately," Dean added. "You sure you're making the best move here? Taking the blame for someone else's act doesn't usually end well."

"I appreciate the concern," he said in an tone that rivaled the Arctic, "On both her on your parts but this is the only way to keep my sister safe."

"Uh huh," Sam wasn't the least bit affected by Oliver's tone. "So you're not worried about how she's going to take it if you get killed? You don't have issues with Merlyn helping her through that?"

"My sister, my choice, stay out of it." Oliver ordered then hung up.

"Remind you of anyone?" Sam asked.

"Shut up," Dean grumbled, then hit another button on his phone.

"Dean? What's up?" A weary Dig asked after the third ring.

"Hey Dig, sorry to call so late," Sam started out, "Felicity called us, she's worried about Oliver. We called him but he seems pretty set on sacrificing himself. She seemed to think that we may be able to help, not sure how, this isn't our usual thing. Figured since we'd talked to her and him we may as well call you and see if you think we can lend a hand some how. Oliver told us to stay out of it and hung up, he didn't seem all that interested in looking at options." Sam could tell that Dean wanted to ask Dig why he wasn't right next to Oliver but he knew that probably wouldn't be the best opening question. Dig had always backed Oliver, protected him, if he was staying behind there had to be a good reason.

A heavy sigh came through the phone. "I tried. Trust me, I want to be there with him, but you don't defy the League's request lightly. They said he had to come alone, if he hadn't they'd be roaming through the streets of Starling killing as many as they could to make their point. They wanted Merlyn, Oliver decided to take him under his protection before he found out about what happened with Thea and Sara. Oliver won't back away from his word and Merlyn is more than happy to use that to stay alive. Honestly guys I'm not sure there is a way to fix this other than letting it play out."

"Well, we're not Oliver," Dean pointed out, "Therefore whatever Oliver promised shouldn't apply to us. How tough is this Merlyn guy?"

"Tough," Dig replied, "I've seen him fight, I can't take him, neither can Oliver."

"Okay but that's hand to hand. Who says you have to get that close to him? I mean I like Oliver, I do, but his whole no gun, bow and arrow thing isn't the most practical of choices. Is that how Merlyn fights?"

"Merlyn was trained by the League, they all use swords, knives, bows, staffs," Dig answered. "I'm sure they can use guns, Oliver can, they just don't seem to."

"Oliver has stun and tranq arrows right?" Sam asked. "I remember that from last time."

"Yeah, do you guys know how to shoot a bow?"

"Crossbows," Dean confirmed, "We used to be pretty good shots with them actually. Any chance you can modify those arrows into crossbow bolts?"

"I've seen Merlyn dodge Oliver's arrows," Dig stated, "Probably a good chance he could dodge a crossbow bolt too."

"Doubtful, they tend to fly faster," Dean, "Besides the plan is not to let him see them coming."

"Plan?" Sam asked, "We have a plan all of a sudden."

A grin crossed Dean's face. "Dig, any idea how long it will take Oliver to get where he's supposed to be?"

"From what little I know of the League he's probably got about a twenty hour flight and Ra's hinted he'd have a rough time getting to where the meeting place was after that. I'd guess three-four days tops."

"Do you have a way to get a hold of the League if we need to?"

"Maybe. Dean, what are you thinking here?"

"Turning over Merlyn to the League, clearing Oliver and his sister and getting Oliver back in one piece. Oliver's not in Starling at the moment, you're not Oliver, neither are we. I see a loophole to Oliver's whole protection thing. If Merlyn just happens to end up in some warehouse, tied up, knocked out with that vid showing it wasn't Oliver along with an explanation that he drugged the poor girl the League would theoretically have to take that into account. Right? Unless they're just bastards."

"Actually, they're fairly honorable for assassins," Dig answered, "They keep their word. It's one of the reasons they are still around, they always deliver on what they promise," he paused. "It could work, Lord knows I have no issues with helping Merlyn get what he has coming to him. He won't be expecting an attack, although he's pretty paranoid in general. He seemed pretty sure Oliver's duel would buy him some time. How fast can you guys get here?"

"About thirty hours, if we drive straight through."

"Dean, you could fly. I can get you a jet or plane tickets."

"No, too much security on that now," Dean said.

"And he's afraid to fly," Sam added with a smirk, "But he's right about the security thing."

Dean just glared at him, "Okay, yeah that too."

"The man who kills ghosts and demons without flinching is afraid to fly," Dig said with more than a hint of a laugh dancing around his words, "Last thing I would have expected."

"It's not the flying, it's the crashing I'm not too keen on," Dean tried to defend himself. "Not the point here guys. How much can you and Felicity get set up in that amount of time? We'd need info on Merlyn's movements, his house, security all that."

"By the time you get here she could tell you the balance on all his hidden bank accounts and have reprogrammed three satellites to track him. Information is the least of our concerns, trust me. Are you serious about this? I mean, if this goes bad and the League decides to take offense they won't stop until they end you."

The brothers looked at each other, Sam hesitated, Dean didn't, "We've handled scarier things. It will be fine. We'll head out in a few hours, need some sleep first."

"Guys," Tightly controlled relief seeped into Dig's voice, "Thanks. We'll all owe you."

"No, you won't," Dean countered. "What you guys did for Sam covers it. See ya later."

"Drive safe," Dig answered then hung up.

Sam took stock of his brother's body language, Dean was much more relaxed, more him, "I tried to get you out on a case a few days ago, you said no. Why are you jumping at this? I mean, I'm glad that it seems to be helping but still."

Dean stood up, stretched his neck and walked to the sink, "Merlyn killed over 500 people, now he's screwing with Oliver. I remember when Oliver first told us about the whole earthquake thing, all I could think about was how it's always people that do the most damage. That if we widened our definition of monsters Merlyn would be at the top of my list. It's time for him to pay, and I'm looking forward to being the one that turns him over to whatever torture the League wants to inflict on him. He's earned it."

When Dean turned back to look at him after rinsing out his coffee cup Sam realized that this whole hunt wasn't helping his brother control the Mark, the idea of revenge, of being the vigilante was feeding into the bloodlust. "Dean, how much of what you just said was the Mark talking and how much was you?"

Dean didn't even pause as he walked out of the kitchen, "Like I said Sammy, it's getting worse. I think I can get some sleep. You should too. I'll wake you up in about four hours. Long drive ahead."

_"Yeah like I can sleep now." _He rinsed his own cup out and walked to his room and did something he'd never dreamed of having to do _I'm locking my door because I'm afraid of my own brother. No matter which way I look at this there's no good options. I need an answer before Dean's gone completely. I just hope there's one to be found._


	3. Put The Lies To Rest

He woke up to a loud knock at his door, "Sam. Let's move."

"Yeah, all right," he answered as he relaxed his grip on the gun he'd started putting back under his pillow when he slept. His eyelids felt like sticky bricks and his body was informing him in no uncertain terms that he needed more sleep but he pushed that aside as he rolled out of bed and took a quick shower. He'd packed before he went to sleep because he knew Dean would be impatient to hit the road.

_We shouldn't be doing this._ The hot water hit his skin, managing to relax him and wake him up at the same time._ I know this will just end badly somehow but this is the first thing in weeks he's wanted to do, I've been dragging him along on hunts but he hasn't really been in the game. This time he seems to be, which is probably the exact reason I shouldn't let him go. Maybe the fact that we're helping someone we actually know is making a difference, giving him something to hold onto. Why can't I find any answers for him? I feel so damn useless. It's harder being on this side of things, I have no idea how he kept sane watching me going through the Trials knowing there wasn't shit he could do to help. I just want that damn Mark gone, I want him back. _

He shoved down the frustration as he stepped out of the shower, one of them had to stay on an even keel and his frustration wouldn't help Dean anyway. Once he was dressed he headed into the kitchen, "Did you sleep?"

Dean had already set coffee and food on the table for him. "A little, you?"

"Passed out. You want first shift driving? I can do it if you want to sleep more on the road."

Dean shot a slightly disbeliving look at him, "You look like hell. I'll drive, you sleep," he countered as he sat down at the table and took a quick bite of eggs, "Hey, thanks for checkin' on me."

"Sure, no problem. You look like hell too by the way."

"Yeah, but I'm not feeling it, you are. I get how you never slept when you were soul less now. It's damned annoying is what it is. Who would have thought souls are the reason we need sleep?" Irritation darkened his green eyes as he downed some coffee, "Makes no sense."

"Maybe souls help control brain waves?"

That got a laugh out of Dean, "The conversations we have at four in the morning on no sleep. Anatomy as told by hunters. How exactly would you prove that theory Dr. Sam?"

"Yeah, somehow I don't think any of the possible double blind tests on that would pass peer review or be considered close to humane or ethical."

"I can just imagine the grant paper you'd have to write on that one," Dean was still chuckling and it somehow filtered into Sam who managed to see the gallows humor of it all.

"It would raise some eyebrows, that's for sure." They didn't say much after that, just finished their food, cleaned up, gathered their bags and headed out. They were a few miles out and he was geting ready to drift off when the morning's conversation came back to him, "Hey Dean."

"Yeah."

"You still have a soul, the Mark doesn't take that away."

"Get some sleep Sam, I'll wake you up in a few hours."

_ Shit! Just how bad has it gotten if he can't even agree on that point? How the hell can I help him? _Although his eyes were closed, he got very little actual sleep as he wracked his brain for some answer, even though he knew there was none. He felt Baby slow down at some indefinable time later, between his thoughts and what little drifting in and out of sleep he'd done he'd lost track of time. He cudgeled his brain into higher level of functioning, "What time is it?"

"About ten. I need a break and food. You didn't move when I stopped for gas a few hours back so I figured you needed the rest."

"Oh, okay. Sorry. I'll drive after we eat."

"Sure," Dean said as he tossed him the keys and stood up. "Ow, damn! Stiff legs. Gettin' too old for this crap."

"You've been saying that for years. This was your idea remember, quit bitching."

Dean's face fell, giving Sam a look full of faked pain, "Just full of sympathy for your older brother, aren't you."

They started walking up to the diner, "I'm looking forward to using your advanced age against you next time we wrestle. I'll kick your ass."

"Never happen," Dean stated as he opened the door, "Your technique still sucks. Always has, always will."

"Whatever."

Dean absently reached out and shoved him sideways a step, "Yeah...whatever."

He shoved back and shot a sidelong glance at Dean just in time to notice Dean's foot cross in front of his. He hooked his foot around Dean's leg and pulled Dean off balance. Dean stumbled, caught his balance and was about to tackle him when they realized the hostess was staring at them looking amused and slightly confused.

"Guessing table for two?" She asked as they tried to recover from looking like teen age boys instead of grown men.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks," Dean answered. The aisle was too narrow for them to walk side by side, they both hesitated as she started walking away. "Dude, go."

He had the perverse desire to just shove Dean in front of him born out an entire life of Dean taking advantage of any situation to torment him just a little bit more. He also recognized the look in Dean's eyes, he was already plotting something. _Hell anything to get him to loosen up. _He took the lead and hadn't gone two steps before he felt a smack on the back of his head, it didn't bother him one bit. Of course the fact that as he turned to sit in the booth the hostess had shown them he stretched his leg out just enough to make Dean fall gracelessly into his side of the booth may have had something to do with that.

The hostess shook her head, frowned and handed them their menus, "Your server will be with you in a few. Can I get you coffee or water?"

"Two coffees, black and an orange juice," he replied while keeping the fact that Dean had just kicked him under the table from registering on his face. "Thanks." He kept his face blank until the hostess walked away then stared across the table, Dean's eyes were filled with repressed laughter while his face was trying to look serious. Sam held on for a second longer then couldn't help it and bust out laughing.

Dean lost it at that point and fell over sideways into the booth crippled by wave after wave of laughter. "Oh god, I needed that," he squeaked out as he tried to start breathing again. "Did you see that girl's face? Frigging classic."

They spent the rest of that meal chuckling, by the time they headed back out to where Baby was parked things felt almost normal again. Dean settled into the passenger's seat as he turned the key, _If making fools out of ourselves helps. I'll take it. Anything to take that edge off of him. _They pulled out, put the sun behind them and headed to the coast. _  
_

About 24 hours later they pulled into the parking lot of Dig and Lyla's place, stiff, sore and happy to not be staring at miles upon miles of blacktop. They gathered their bags, took the elevator up the three floors and shuffled down the hall to knock on Dig's door.

"Hey guys," Dig said with a smile as he opened the door, "You must be wiped out after that drive."

"Wiped out was ten hours ago," Sam pointed out as he set his bags by the couch. He and Dean had decided to switch, this time Dean would get the spare room and he'd take the pullout bed. "Now we're just zombies."

"Sugar, caffeine, food or sleep?" Dig asked.

Dean paced back and forth across the living room trying to stretch his legs. "Where are we on time and info?"

"Felicity cracked Merlyn's cell phone and security for his house already. She's downloaded pretty much the entire contents of his phone, which are very interesting might I add and we're tracking him. No word from Oliver but from what Felicity could tell he landed safe but where ever he is now has pretty spotty satellite coverage so it's been hard for her to follow him. She can't retask sateliites for that long, people tend to notice those things," Dig sad with a wry smile.

"Gotta love that girl," Dean replied. "Well we got sleep on the way here," Dean asked with a questioning look to Sam who nodded, "Once we start moving and get blood flowing again we're probably good to go. Let's go see Felicity. Just give us a few seconds before we have to get back into a car again."

Dig laughed, "Sure thing."

About ten minutes later they headed out the door to the club and joined Felicity in the basement. She was, as usual, at her computers, furiously typing away. "Hi guys," she said without even looking up.

"What's wrong?" Dig asked.

"How can you tell when she's upset?" Dean joked, "Every time I see her she looks just like that."

"Typing speed, how hard she's hitting the keys and the fact she didn't look up," Dig answered.

"Thea called me again," Felicity responded fingers still flying, "I hate lying to her, I hate this. She's worried, she knows something's wrong. This is so pointless now, she's the last member of his family left alive."

"That's why he's doing it," Sam said. Felicity's glare over the top of her monitor was so intense he raised his hands in response, "Hey, I'm not saying it's right but I get it."

Dean sat down next to her, "I don't. You're right, it's stupid."

That shocked Sam. "Really?"

"She chose evil Dad over Oliver for a reason, he did it to himself keeping her in the dark. People can only live with being lied to for so long." Dean was looking at Felicity when he spoke but the words were meant as much for him as they were for her. The Mark had pulled Dean out of his desire to hide everything and they both knew that had made them stronger as a family.

"Yeah, see your point," Sam acknowledged. "So have you and Dig come up with a way to catch Malcolm?"

"A few," Dig answered, "Malcolm's good though, his instincts are always on. We have to move fast and quiet to catch him by surprise. I'm holding off contacting the League until we know we have him."

"Felicity," Sam said, "Can you show us the vid of Thea killing Sara? I figured you've verified it's real already."

"I did and it is," Anger flashed in her eyes and the clicking of the keys became much louder as she vented her rage onto the keyboard.

Sam reached across the monitor and took her hands in his, forcing her to look up at him, "We'll fix this and save him. Destroying your keyboard won't help, plus you'll be pissed when it breaks."

"I have more," she snapped then stopped herself. "Sorry."

"When was the last time you stood up? Had food?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," she confessed.

"Look, load up the vid and take a break. I know you're unstoppable once you get involved in something like this but we'll need you alert and not angry later."

She took a deep breath and he felt her fingers twitch against his palms, "You're right. Let go, I'll load it up and get some food. Thanks."

He nodded and released her hands, she typed a few more things, stood up and walked away, not wanting to watch the heinous act again. He and Dean scooted closer to the screen and watched Thea, her features hidden by a cowl, carrying a bow like she'd been born with in her hands. They watched as a masked woman all in black turned and asked what Thea was doing there armed and on a roof. Then they watched Thea loose three arrows with no more emotion than a person swatting a fly would have and the woman in black staggered back and fell off the roof. Thea turned towards the camera, her face was blank and then the video stopped.

"Holy shit," Dean exhaled, "That was beyond cold. She had no idea what she was doing did she?"

"No, that's what the drug does I guess," Dig confirmed. "You just become a robot."

"And her own father did this?" Sam snarled.

"Yeah."

"Remember our earlier conversation about the definition of a monster?" Dean asked Sam, disgust in his eyes.

"Yes, and I agree with you. This guy has got to pay."

Dean stared at the image of Thea's empty face on the screen and Sam could see the hatred building, the tension racing back into his muscles. "Screw Oliver. We need to tell her."

"That's not our place Dean," Sam disagreed.

"Bullshit. Better she know then start having nightmares about it when it bubbles back up from deep inside her brain. We both know how "hidden memories" work. From what you told me about this girl she's a lot tougher than Oliver gives her credit for."

"Yeah I guess but..."

"But nothing," Hard green eyes snapped to his and Dean's knuckles whitened. "Sam, you always bitched about me being a self-sacrificing idiot, Oliver's doing the same thing. Look where where we are now. You don't think something just as fucked up can happen here?"

"Hold on Dean, Thea has no idea who we even are. She won't believe us anyway."

"She will if I tell her," Felicity's voice came from the stairway, She had a plate with a sandwich in her hands, a cup of water in the other and indomitable determination in her face. "Thank you! Someone agrees with me and is willing to do something about it." She shot a harsh look at Dig. "Dig, I love you, I do, but Oliver isn't your boss," Felicity pointed out, "and he isn't mine either. We've been following his lead for too long on this. At the beginning it made sense to keep secrets. Now? Come on. Who the hell doesn't know who Arrow is at this point? Laurel knows, Sara knew, all his enemies know, it's not keeping Thea safe, they all know he has a sister anyway."

They could tell Dig was torn, "It's not that I don't want to tell her, it's just it's something he should be doing."

She put her food and drink down, walked over to Dig and looked him straight in the eye, "And if he dies, what story are we going to tell her? Or do we just watch her search for him when we know that she won't find him alive? Are you willing to put her through that?"

Dig looked away from her and met Sam and Dean's eyes. They said nothing, just waited. "Damn," he said with a resigned sigh, "All right."


	4. Harsh Truths

"So we doin' this now?" Dean asked, "Or saving that for after we take on evil Dad?"

"I think we should tell her now," Felicity stated, "Especially if we do manage to turn that bastard over she should know why her Dad has disappeared. I'll call her." She grabbed her phone off the table, turned and walked up the stairs away from the men.

Sam looked around and wondered just how much longer Oliver and his team would be able to hold things together. He could sense the bonds that Felicity, Dig and Oliver had built over the last few years fracturing; the air was thick with hidden feelings, things unsaid and lingering questions. He looked at Dean and could tell his brother felt it too. "Dig? Should we take off?" Sam asked, "I mean, Thea doesn't know us and she's going to have a lot to process."

Dig crossed his arms, leaned against the desk where Felicity usually sat and stared at Oliver's suit, hidden in plain sight inside it's glass case. "Huh, how he displays that suit is a rather apt metaphor these days. The Arrow protected by something that's so easy to shatter and destroy, and the suit covering a faceless mannequin," he shifted his gaze back to the brothers," Honestly guys, I think having complete strangers verify Felicity's story may actually help. Everyone she knows has lied to her, she went with Merlyn, who in a lot of ways was a complete stranger, because he offered her blunt honesty. or she thought he did." A small chuckle accompanied his next words, "And we all know both of you deal in blunt honesty pretty well when it's called for."

Dean answered Dig's chuckle with his own wry smile, "Yeah, true. Especially these days. It's your call Dig."

Dig straightened up from the table and headed towards the stairs. "I'll get you some beers while we wait."

"Thanks," Sam said.

Dean waited until Dig was out of the room before he shook his head and walked closer to the display case that held Oliver's suit, "Damn, I don't even think the machete would cut through all the tension in this place. Those three used to be a well oiled machine."

"Yeah, it's like they aren't even on the same page anymore. I mean, I get Oliver and Felicity having issues, what with the whole relationship that wasn't one we picked up on last time we were here but even Dig seems lost. Whoever this girl Sara was, her death must have really shattered Oliver somewhere deep down because he's not acting rational at all. Felicity and Dig know it too."

"Hey.." Dean muttered right when they both heard footsteps on the stairs. They saw Felicity's feet first and realized that it wasn't Dig that was with her. A petite woman, slightly shorter than Felicity was walking down the stairs with her. Thea, that's who Sam assumed it was, exuded this sense of being incredibly resiliant yet emotionally fragile and brittle at the same time. Her close cropped, brown, wavy hair, framed a very mobile, open face; which was currently terrified, confused with edges of horror and betrayal already showing as she looked into the very center of her brother's hidden life. He was torn between wanting to tell her to run in an attempt to protect her and just telling her everything as fast as he could to get it over with.

"Wait..." Thea said, "This...this can't be, not Oliver...no." She wrapped her arms around herself at first but then he saw something in her, some source of strength welled up from deep within her. Her brown eyes went slightly out of focus as she started thinking back over the last few years. "When he came back...that's when the Arrow sightings started...his scars, Slade." The confusion started to fade and anger came roaring like a flame onto her face, "Why the hell didn't he tell me? Did keeping his secret keep Mom from dying?! Tommy! Sara! No! If we had known we could have taken steps!" She stalked toward the Arrow suit and Sam thought he'd have to restrain her from punching through the glass, "You self righteous, overprotective, misguided, selfish bastard! How dare you!" She spun around and her eyes fell on the bow and arrows first, but her eyes kept moving as if finally truly seeing what was in front of her. "He, you, all of you have hid down here for years?" She finally looked at he and Dean. "And who the hell are you? Some more strangers that knew my brother's secret before I did?"

Sam watched her fists ball up as she took a fighting stance and had a feeling he and Dean were about to become the target for all her pain, "I'm Sam, that's my brother Dean and yes we knew, have for a few years. Sorry." He knew how utterly insufficient saying sorry to her was but it was all he had to offer.

Dig came back down the stairs and stopped when he caught sight of Thea. "We tried to get him to tell you."

She whirled around, "Not hard enough!

Felicity stepped in front of her, putting her hand on Thea's shoulder. "When we first started this it made sense to hide things. None of us had ever done something like this before, I sure as hell had no idea how to act. We all just followed Oliver's lead, he had the training, the mission, he was the center of the whole thing. Now? Well things have changed." Felicity closed her eyes briefly, then reopened them and they saw the tears she was trying to hold back, "I wish this was the only secret I had to tell you tonight. It's more than you, than anyone should have to deal with, but it's not."

Thea just stood there, eyes locked onto Felicity. The three men all instinctively stepped closer, their instincts to protect someone who was in pain and was about to be handed even more making them move.

"It's about Merlyn.." Felicity broke off..."and Sara. Just...there's no easy way to do this, or say it."

Thea's breaths started to come faster but then she seemed to take stock of her emotions, took a deep breath and stunned them all when she spoke again, her voice was utterly calm. "What is it?"

"He...well, watch this first then I'lll explain," Felicity turned to her monitor and hit play on the video. Thea watched the whole thing without moving, without even blinking. When it finished, that well of strength she'd drawn on dissipated as her knees collapsed under her. Sam caught her before she hit the floor and Dean pushed a chair closer so Sam could set her down.

"No, no...I...no.." she whispered over and over while tears streamed down her face. "How? I don't remember.. Why?"

Felicity wrapped her arms around Thea's shoulder, gently rocking her, "I'm so sorry sweetie, so sorry."

Sam started to pull away from Thea but her hand tightly gripped his, "Thank you."

"No problem," he stopped moving and let her find whatever comfort from him she could.

Felicity waited until Thea's sobs lessened before she continued. "Look, I am just going to tell you everything we know about Malcolm and Oliver, it's a long story and Dig and I both know they still have plenty of secrets but we're tired of hiding them from you. Okay?"

Thea nodded numbly, Dig set down the beers, went back up stairs and returned with some bottled water and handed it to Thea. "Thanks Dig," she muttered before Felicity continued. She took a few drinks and seemed to gain some of her previous confidence back, "All right, tell me."

Thea wrapped both her hands around the bottled water and Sam faded back away from the two women and stood next to Dean. It took Felicity about a half an hour to cover the rough outline of the last two years. By the end of it, Thea seemed to have regained some sense of calm, or was in complete shock and wasn't able to process anything else, Sam wasn't sure which it was. Felicity finished and for several minutes only the hum of the computers provided any sound at all.

"So both my Dads were behind the Undertaking and so was my Mom, even though she tried to stop it. My entire family is filled with psychos." She shook her head, "Do you know some dark, horrible secret about Tommy too?"

"No," Felicity assured her, "He didn't even know about it, just like you and Oliver didn't, like I told you he tried to stop Malcolm too."

"Well, at least one of my brothers isn't twisted," Bitterness seeped from her.

"Thea, Oliver's been trying to save the city." Dig pointed out.

"I know, that's what makes it so much worse." She made an aimless gesture encompassing the room, "This is his idea of doing the right thing." She paused, stood up, slowly walked back over towards the suit and the bow and arrows. "I'm so sorry Oli," she whispered as she placed her hand gently on the glass, "so sorry about what you went through that turned you into this, that caused you so much pain. So sorry that you thought you couldn't share it with me. I wish you had, maybe we could have found a different way to stop what Mom, Dad and Malcolm were a part of. A way that would have kept Mom and Tommy alive." As she finished speaking she placed her forehead onto the glass and closed her eyes.

As the brothers watched her leaning against the glass, they got the oddest sensation that Oliver was standing there, embracing his sister. She seemed to feel it too because she raised her head and stared rather intently at the empty face of the mannequin, then nodded at it as if it had spoken to her. "How can I help?" Her question wasn't just meant for them, on some level she was asking Oliver as well.

"Thea.." Dig's tone caused her to slowly turn her head, he stopped speaking as soon as he saw her face. "You won't take no as answer will you? I've seen that look plenty of times on Oliver's face."

"Exactly. You still haven't told me where my brother is, I'm guessing you wanted to save the best or rather worst for last but I am going to put two and two together here and take a shot. He's in danger, that video you showed me has something to do with it and Malcolm's involved. Right?"

Felicity and Dig just nodded.

"So?" Thea pressed.

Felicity looked away and Dig hesitated.

"Your brother took your evil Dad under his protection from this group called the League of Assassins." Dean said, "He didn't want Malcolm to get killed because he feels responsible for the death of your other Dad and your Mom. He figured you couldn't handle losing more family, evil or not. Malcolm set you up as a patsy to get Oliver to fight to the death to clear the blood debt for Sara's death and him pisssing off the League by destroying half the Glades." Dig and Felicity stared at him, "What? You were going to get there eventually and we're on the clock here."

A hint of a smile came and went from Thea's face, "Harsh, but honest. That's a nice change. Dean right?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks."

"No problem. Look Thea," Dean shifted to stand up instead of leaning against the desk, "I know this is hitting you all at once, but Oliver left yesterday, he's meeting the head of the League in some sort of screwed up duel from what we know. Felicity and Dig figure we have about two or three more days before they hook up. We want to turn Malcolm over to the League to get your brother back. What we're hoping is that once they know that Malcolm is behind Sara's death, not Oliver, they'll let him go. I know this is a crappy place for you to be in and I'm sorry as hell that you have to go through all of this."

Thea looked at the four of them, "Malcolm's paranoid, beyond paranoid. When I went with him we trained hours a day, he'd told me that he would show me how to be strong and never be afraid again. I guess I should have wondered why he had a house filled with weapons and he was an expert in using all of them but I was too caught up in my own pain. He's been on edge lately, more than usual, I guess this is why. You won't be able to just break into his house and tackle him, he's way too good for that."

"Thea?" Felicity queried, jumping ahead of the rest of them in following Thea's thought process, "Are you sure?"

They knew her answer before she even spoke, the stony expression on her face that did nothing to hide the anger and hurt in her eyes spoke volumes. "Malcolm made me kill Sara, she and Laurel were like older sisters to me. Malcolm is the reason my mother went to prison and my father told Oliver to right his wrongs. Malcolm Merlyn has destroyed my entire family and killed hundreds of people. Yes, I'm sure."


	5. When It All Comes Tumbling Down

"All right then," Dean said, "You willing to let us into his place?"

Thea shook her head, "No. It's better if he's knocked out before you guys show up and there's too much security at his place."

Felicity pulled open one of the drawers that held weapons and assorted other tools of the vigilante trade. "Here, it's the tranquilizer Oliver uses on his arrows," she handed Thea a vial of clear liquid, "Put it in his drink, make the drink strong or he may taste it. It should have him on the ground in a minute or so."

Thea took the vial and tucked it into her purse. "Fine."

Sam saw through her attempt at blanking out her expression as she tried to stay emotionless and focused, but he knew better then to bring it up then. It wouldn't help make things any easier if she broke down now.

"Dean, Dig and I will be right outside the door," he told her, instead of what he really wanted to say, "If he tries anything or seems to be on to you just yell."

"I can handle myself," she snapped. "I'm not an idiot or a child."

"No one is saying you are either of those," Sam assured her, "But you know you're no match for him if he tries to fight, I don't care how much you trained with him. We're just here to help, okay?"

Her eyes narrowed briefly then she looked away from him and nodded, "Okay. Let me call him and get him to come over to my place for dinner. There's less weapons there and it's smaller, better for all this." She pulled her phone out of her pocket, pushed a button and they were all impressed at how she made her voice completely different than the expression on her face. "Hi Dad," there was absolutely no hint of the anger that swam in her eyes when she spoke, "I'm fine, I'm in the mood to cook and wanted to try to make that lamb dish we loved to eat after training all day. Want to come over? Seven? Sure. See ya then, love you."

She hung up, shoved her phone back into her pants pocket and headed towards the stairs, "Come scope out my place, we've got a few hours. Dig you stay here just in case he's got someone watching my house. Sam and Dean can tell you what it looks like. I can pass them off as construction guys or something if he asks. I'll tell him I am thinking of remodeling the condo." She was halfway up the stairs by the time the brothers realized that she had taken over the whole operation. They shot a quick look at Dig who shrugged, Thea stopped moving, "He didn't just train me in fighting, he trained me how to plan things like this. Like I said, I'm not an idiot. Now are you coming or not?" She didn't look back down at them, just resumed going up the stairs, Sam looked at Dean who nodded and they caught up with her.

They didn't speak the entire way to her house since Dean had to put all his focus on keeping up with her driving. It was fairly obvious that she was taking a large amount of her emotions out on her car. Both of them breathed a sigh of relief when they finally pulled into the parking lot of a high end high rise. She got out of the car, barely kept herself from slamming the door and stalked towards the elevators.

"That was nerve wracking," Dean muttered to Sam as they followed along behind her.

"To say the least."

She lived on the third floor, the elevator ride was as silent as the car trip, her door was a few down from the elevator, she unlocked it, let them in and slammed it behind them making Sam and Dean jump.

"Nice place," Dean stated, "You lose less money then Oliver did after the takeover?"

"Oliver lives here now," she replied, "When he's not off being stupid or running around in green leather I guess. Malcolm helped me get this place."

Dean winced, "Uh, oh. Sorry."

She jerked her head towards the stairs, "Bedrooms are up there, look around, just don't touch anything. Standing in the hall won't work, the security guard here is pretty good and watches everything on monitors. If he sees three huge guys standing by my door he'll call someone. There are two bedrooms up there you can stay in and I have a private elevator you can carry him down. If you stay quiet he won't know you're here."

"All right," Sam said. Thea turned away from them, headed into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of scotch out of a cabinet. Dean raised an eyebrow at him and motioned for Sam to stay there while he looked around. He sighed and turned towards the kitchen while Dean headed up the stairs. He sat down on one of the barstools that were lined up along the kitchen island and waited for her to turn around.

"Want some?" She asked.

"Little early don't you think?"

A bitter laugh escaped her, "I come from money, it's never too early. Hell, my Dad, not Malcolm, used to have breakfast meetings with his associates that started with mimosas and ended with forty year old brandy and that was all before noon."

She pounded two shots back in rapid succession, which impressed the hell out of him and fixed her eyes on him. "Oh great, you have that look too."

"What look?"

"The protect the woman at all costs, she can't possibly handle all of this look. Well knock it off." Her shot glass slammed onto the top of the counter, then she went to fill it up again but he put his hand on the bottle, stopping her.

"Thea, you don't know my brother or I that well. We've come across plenty of women who have fought through things as bad if not worse than what you're dealing with. There have been a few women in our lives that would beat the hell out of us for even thinking they weren't strong enough. We know you're not weak, but we also know how hard this is and getting hammered won't help. I know you're angry and hurt and you have every right to be, but right now you have to stay focused. Afterwards, Dig, Felicity and Oliver will be here to help you through it."

"Really Sam?" She tried to wrestle the bottle away from him but he just twisted it out of her grip and set it next to him. "Oliver? He can't even handle his own pain, that's pretty obvious. You think he'll be able to help me with mine?"

He reached across the counter, picked up the lid for the bottle and screwed it back on, "I think once he knows that you know all his secrets you two can finally get back to being family. He needs you as much as you need him. Just give it time and don't give up on him." He heard a sound, looked up and saw Dean standing there watching them.

"Thea," Dean took over, "Oliver's spent years being afraid of what you would think of how he is now," He said as he walked down the stairs. "We actually met a few years ago, something he couldn't handle was happening here and we got involved. The details aren't important but what is is what he told us, what we talked about. You need to understand that Oliver is not, and will never be who he was before that shipwreck. You mentioned you saw his scars. What he went through, only a few people can ever really understand. People like Dig or Sam and I. Hell is not even a good term for it. He was tortured, forced to kill to survive, he had to twist himself into something he'd never been before to survive. When he came back from that, came back home, nothing seemed right anymore. Arrow? The whole vigilante gig? It was something he did to honor your Dad. To try to stop the Undertaking. The fact that he failed still eats at him, but it was also the only way he could try to navigate who he'd become and who he was trying to be to fit back into his life here. He didn't tell you the truth to protect you, although that's what he tells himself. In the end he kept it from you to protect himself and whatever relationship you had. Be honest Thea, if he had come right out and told you everything right when he got back you wouldn't have had a clue how to deal with it. You probably still don't, but back then, how do you think you would have taken it?"

Sam watched as Dean's words sank into her mind, pushing the anger out of her and reaching the deep ties that she and Oliver still had somehow. "I don't know, I was a huge party girl then, using booze and pills to hide. His world wasn't the only one destroyed when we thought he'd died." She closed her eyes and her lips moved in some sort of chant or ritual, her breathing slowed. "I probably would have told him he needed to see a shrink or something, maybe been afraid. I don't know."

"He didn't know either, " Sam said, "But he did know he didn't want you, or your mom, to see him as damaged or someone who needed to be medicated. He didn't want to see you pity him, or be afraid of him. He's a survivor, just like you."

"I know, it's just..." She reached up and roughly pushed the tears from her eyes.

"We know, trust us," Sam told her, "Just focus on what's in front of you. Getting Merlyn to the League and getting Oliver back."

She nodded and looked at Dean, "So?"

"Yeah the three of us can hang in one of those two rooms," Dean's said, all business, the emotion of the prior moments gone as quickly as it had come, "You dope him, then call us when he's out. We'll handle the rest."

A lost look crossed her face as she looked around the living area, "Sounds good," she muttered.

The brothers shot each other a quick look, "How about you hang out at the club until later?" Sam asked. "No need to be alone."

"And do what there?" She countered. "Stare at the four of you? Have some drinks with Felicity and talk about fashion while we wait? Think that will happen?"

"Probably not but you staying here alone and mulling over all the crap you just found out won't help either." Dean shot back, "You own the club right? Isn't there something you can do there to keep you busy? Inventory or something? You said it yourself, Merlyn could be watching the place, you think if he sees you here alone pissed off and crying he won't know something is up?"

"Fine." She gave in, "I have some orders to place anyway." She put the bottle back, rinsed out the shot glass and went to collect her purse, Sam and Dean breathed huge, if silent, sighs of relief. Then they headed back to Verdant.


	6. Gathering Storms

Once they got back to Verdant, Thea headed behind the bar and disappeared into another room. The brothers went back downstairs.

"One of you two should keep an eye on her," Sam stated.

"I will," Felicity offered as she stood up, "Dig can monitor Malcolm, make sure he doesn't do anything we aren't expecting."

They had several hours to wait and Sam wasn't all that keen on sitting around in the club, both he and Dean were still wiped out from the drive and they needed some food. "Dig, mind if we use your car again? We could use some food and sleep before things kick off tonight."

"Sure Sam, here." Dig tossed them another ring of keys, "House key is the silver one with the blue band on it. You remember how to get back?" He'd given them the car key when they followed Thea to her house.

"Yup," Dean answered, "We'll be back around six or so. Thanks man."

"No problem. See ya guys then."

"Sure," Sam replied. He kept the keys and drove to the first decent looking restaurant they spotted.

"I hate all night drives," Dean said, "I never know if I should eat breakfast, lunch or dinner when we finally stop to get food."

"Yeah, my system hasn't been all too happy about this trip either. Maybe we could try hypnotizing you so you can get over your fear of flying."

"Nope, the last thing I want it to do is give you a chance at making me quack like a duck on command or some other stupid ass thing."

"Really Dean?" Sam replied, slightly hurt, "I'd come up with something much more embarrasing than that. Give me some credit."

"Get inside," Dean grumbled as he held the door to the restaurant open.

Sam chuckled and walked into the foyer, smiled at the hostess and held up two fingers. She fished out two menus and led them to a back corner booth. They settled in, he glanced at the menu for a moment then he had to ask. "How are you?"

Dean gave him a half shrug but didn't look up from the menu, "Fine. It's quiet. Being on the road makes it easier for the most part. Thea reminds me a lot of Oliver, stubborn and short tempered."

"Stubborn, short tempered, smart and way too brave for her own damn good," Sam added. "She's taking a huge risk and who the hell knows how it's going to affect her after."

"I know, but she had a choice, evil Dad or Oliver. It's pretty apparent where her loyalties are. Oliver's damn lucky she wasn't more pissed at him for lying to her all these years."

"Yeah, true." He knew he should eat, but suddenly nothing looked appetizing. He decided on a sandwich with some soup to play it safe and chose to stick with water. He didn't need anymore caffeine in his system. "This is all kinds of screwed up."

"Tell me about it," Dean sighed and put his menu down. "Nothing we can do though. We just need to get Oliver back where he belongs and hope that they all get their crap figured out."

They ordered, ate and left with minimal conversation, then drove the rest of the way to Dig's place and slept for the next several hours. Sam woke up to Dean standing over him and he tensed up until he saw the coffee cup in Dean's hand.

"Made coffee. You drive Dig's car back and I'll drive Baby." Dean stated then sat down in a chair across from him.

"Thanks."

"Sure thing."

Although Sam felt better with a few more hours of sleep in him, that queasy, fear induced feeling in the pit of his stomach wouldn't go away. He worried less when they were hunting the monsters they should be hunting. If Dean lost it while attacking a ghost or demon it wouldn't be so bad as there were usually not a lot of humans around. This whole job was nothing but people, even if they were assassins and Dean was looking too in control; which somehow made him more worried. The Mark should be acting up, but it seemed to not be bothering him at all. "_I love how even the things that should make me feel better end up making me feel worse." _

They finished up their coffee, took showers and drove back to Verdant and discovered things had gotten somehow even more complicated then when they left.

"..Roy, we have this covered," they heard Dig say.

"I'm not some kid fresh off the street anymore Dig, I've been out there for months with Oliver! You're letting Thea help you but not me?"

"Oh great," Dean muttered, "As if we need another kid to watch out for."

"Hey guys," Dig said as he spotted them.

"Poor guy looks like he's about to lose it," Sam muttered to his brother, "I'm surprised he's managed to stay sane this long with all the drama that seems to go on." Then he raised his voice, "Hey Dig."

A rather handsome young man spun around and stared up at them, "These them? The guys that you all feel have more of a right to help Oliver than I do?"

"Simmer down Abercrombie," Dean started making Sam wince and shake his head in exasperation, "I'm guessing you're Roy and that other suit belongs to you."

"Yeah.."

"Roy," Sam interrupted, trying to stop the rapidly increasing dislike towards he and Dean that he was seeing on Roy's face, "It's not about who has more of a right to help Oliver, it's about experience. We've been at this a lot longer than you, hell a lot longer than all of you including Dig and Oliver."

"So it was your idea to get Thea involved?" Roy snarled and both of them picked up on just how much he cared for her.

"No," Dean replied with a bit more heat than was probably required, "That was Felicity and Dig's idea. We agreed she should know the truth, they told her and Thea decided to help. How'd you find out about all that anyway?"

Roy's fists clenched and he shot a nasty glare at Felicity, "She called me to bitch me out that I knew and didn't tell her, that I'd lied to her just like everyone else in her life. Then she told me that she was going to help save Oliver no matter what it took. She hung up on me, I came here and she damn near punched me when she saw me. Any reason none of you took the time to keep me in the loop?"

"That's it!" Felicity shouted, "I'm so tired of all of this! Roy I didn't tell you because of this exact reason. You take everything personally, stop and think for five seconds, God you're almost as bad as Oliver. This is the League of Assassins, not street thugs. Do you honestly think you're ready to fight Nyssa? You've seen her in action. Thea will not be anywhere near these people, all she is doing is incapaciting Malcolm so we can hand him over to the League."

Sam and Dean were both shocked at the amount of anger and frustration radiating off of Felicity who'd always seemed to be the one who stayed in control.

"Yes, you're not fresh off the street," she continued, "Yes, you've been out there for months with Oliver but I have been doing this for years with Oliver. When I thought of the people that could handle the League I called Sam and Dean in. This whole rescue mission is my idea. You and Dig just sat there and let Oliver walk out! I'm the one that put the tracking beacon in his bag, I'm the one that hasn't stopped trying to find a way to get him back. You left the day he did and haven't been back since. So if you want to complain about who has the right to help him fine, but where the hell have you been since he left? Sam and Dean drove thirty hours straight through to get here and help. You and Dig live here and haven't been down here with me until now. There's your answer." She'd stalked across the floor and was standing toe to toe with Roy who'd backed up a few steps in response to the intensity of her words, the emotion that poured off of her.

"I, I...well." Roy stuttered, "I guess I didn't know what to do, how to get him back and I was pretty pissed that he went off like that and left us."

"So was I," Felicity continued, "but that's the difference, I didn't give up." Roy looked away from her, she took a breath and tried to soften her tone, "Look Roy, I know you care about him too but..."

"But what?"

"I just didn't think you were ready for all of this, for going against what he wants. I know how much you respect him and when you guys left and I was here I felt like I was the only one willing to do whatever it takes to get him back." She pushed her glasses up and pinched the bridge of her nose, sniffed, shook her head and looked back at Roy. "Maybe I should have called you, I just..."

Roy reached out and wrapped his arms around her, "No, you're right, I should have stayed and helped you, fought for him like you have. I'm sorry."

"That goes for me too," Dig stated, "Although I was less pissed and more exasperated. I just needed some time to calm down I guess."

Sam looked at Dean who had a small smile on his face. _"Maybe they'll be all right after all." __  
_

"Uh guys," Dean said, "Hate to interrupt the mood but we're on the clock."

"Yeah we are," Felicity agreed and disentangled herself from Roy, "Thea left about a half an hour ago so she could start cooking. She stayed sober and focused while she was here, I didn't know about her almost punching Roy though."

"That shouldn't surprise you," Roy said with a wry smile on his face.

"It doesn't," Felicity stated with a matching smile, "You three..."

"Four," Dig interrupted, "Roy if you want in, you're in."

Roy nodded, "Thanks but I'll hang back right now. Honestly the thought of Thea anywhere near that asshole screws with me. I just want to beat the living hell out of that bastard, I'll stay here and help Felicity. Maybe later when you turn him over to the League. I'll be calmer if Thea's not there."

Sam's opinion of Roy shot up a few notches. He may still be new at this but he was experienced enough to know when he would be more of a liability than an asset. The fact that he was willing to admit it while someone he had feelings for was in danger required a much greater sense of maturity than Sam expected him to have.

"All right," Felicity continued, "You three need to head over to Thea's. I gave her a micro camera with a fish eye lens on it to put somewhere that covers most of the room they'll be in. You guys take earpieces, I'll watch her and give you a heads up if anything seems to be going wrong."

"Sounds good," Sam replied as they grabbed the earpieces, tested them and then headed to Thea's. Dig took his car, they took Baby and parked about a block away. Dig had pointed out that there was no need to tip off Malcolm or anyone he had watching the place by parking in her building's lot.

They went up the private elevator, Thea met them at the door, looking concerned. "Felicity told me you guys were here. Get in the room quick. He called and said he's about five minutes away."

"He's early," Dig pointed out.

"I hadn't noticed," Thea dead panned with an exasperated look on her face. "Now move!"

The three of them rushed up the stairs and into the guest bedroom, just as they shut the door to the room they heard Felicity over the earpieces. "Sorry I didn't tell you guys he was early. I got distracted and hadn't noticed he'd started heading that way."

"Do you think this means he knows something is up?" Dig asked in hushed tones.

"Not sure. Just stay there until I tell you otherwise. I'm going to try to run the audio from the camera into the earpieces so we can all hear what's going on. The sound on it is not all that great so not sure it will work."

A few minutes later they heard a light knock on the door.

"Hi," Thea said, her voice was barely audible through the earpieces.

"Best I can do guys," Felicity told them.

"It's fine," Sam said, "Dean and I are used to listening to fuzzy recordings trying to hear spirits talking in the background. We're good."

"Hi sweetie," A confident, slightly arrogant masculine voice said, "That smells delicious. I think you nailed the recipe this time."

"I guess third time's a charm," Thea replied, not a single hint of anything untoward in her voice. "Sit, get comfy. What do you want to drink?"

"Damn, she's a first rate liar," Dean whispered, "She should go into acting."

"Comes with the money, and the secrets," Dig pointed out.

They chatted for a few more minutes about insignificant things. He asked about her day at the club and she asked about his day at work.

"Shouldn't that tranq have kicked in by now?" Sam asked.

Dig nodded, "Yeah, if she gave it to him."

"She's pouring him another drink," Felicity informed them, "I think she slipped it in that one. Maybe she wanted to make him comfortable at first, lower his guard or something."

"Here you go," Thea said, "I have to check on the food. It's almost done."

"He took a pretty big pull on that one," Felicity said, "Get ready. Wait, what is she doing?"

"What?" Dean hissed as they all tensed up.

"Where the hell did she get one of those?" Felicity snapped, "Damn it!"

"Thea?" Malcolm's voice was no longer arrogant, it had darkened into something much deadlier, "Why did you just hit me with..." he broke off, "That drug works faster..." he slurred.

"That's because I laced your drinks and the appetizers you were munching on with it as well." All traces of the caring, innocent daughter left her voice, "I thought using my brother's tranquilizer dart to finish the job was appropriate," her voice was like ice wreathed in fire, "You bastard, you're going to pay for what you've done. You made me kill Sara!" The next sound they heard was a body hitting the ground.

"Get down there!" Felicity ordered, her words jolting them into action.

They burst out of the room and Sam saw Thea standing over the recumbent form of Malcolm and delivering several powerful kicks into his torso. "Bastard! Asshole! How could you?"


	7. The Arrival

Sam wrapped his arm around Thea's chest and pulled her away from Malcolm just before she landed a kick to Malcolm's head, "Whoa, whoa, Thea. He still needs to be breathing when we hand him over."

She tried to break his grip on her once or twice, then slumped against him. "Get him out of here," she growled, "And let go."

He pulled his arm away, she stared at the man who had turned her into a mindless killer for a few moments longer, then turned and slowly walked up the stairs.

"That was close." Dig said, "I'll go get the car, I'll tell you when I'm pulling in front of that elevator so you can move him. I want to make this whole transfer as fast as possible. I have a warehouse picked out to take him to already."

"Um, has anyone even checked with the League to see if they want to trade?" Dean asked.

"Oh, yeah sorry," Dig answered, "Forgot to tell you that. We got a hold of Nyssa, the daughter of Ra's who runs the League. She's coming and bringing Oliver, or so she said."

The brothers shot questioning glances at each other, "Felicity did mention I hate flying, right?" Dean asked. "If this goes south I, unlike Oliver, don't have a burning desire to visit a remote island in attempt to get myself killed. I have enough things trying to kill me right here."

Dig looked at Dean, then down at Malcolm, then back at Dean, "I think we can make your flight enjoyable if it comes to that. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Be back in a few." He disappeared into the private elevator.

"I'm not flying," Dean declared, "I don't care how much they drug me. I'm pretty sure I've already pushed my luck with the few flights I have been on."

Sam just shook his head and grabbed Malcolm's shoulders. "Let's get him over to the elevator at least. The faster we get him out of here, the better for Thea."

"Yeah, sure." Dean picked up Malcolm's legs and they moved him over to the elevator and waited.

"Guy's got some muscle to him," Dean muttered as he shifted his grip on Malcolm's ankles.

"And you've got the lighter side," Sam replied in a tight voice while sweat broke out on his forehead.

"I'm back, head on down." Dig's voice echoed in their ears. Dean pushed the button for the elevator.

They got Malcolm bundled into the trunk of Dig's car and hopped into the passenger seats. Dig dropped them off at the Impala and they followed him to an abandoned, run down warehouse deep in the Glades.

"Huh, wonder if Oliver's family used to own this one too," Dean mused as they got out and transferred Malcolm to the floor of the warehouse, tied his hands and feet together and scoped out the location.

"Not a bad choice," Sam told Dig, "Noticed all the chained doors and barred windows. The chains look relatively new. You do that?"

"I was busy while you guys slept," Dig replied and a vicious grin accompanied his words. "I tried to limit them to one way in and out, I'm not too fond of assassins creeping up on me."

"Right there with ya man," Dean added. "Any idea when this Nyssa chick is going to show?"

"Later tonight," Dig hesitated, "Something about how fast she's getting here is bugging me though. She didn't bother to consult with Ra's, just said she'd bring Oliver and take Malcolm. She really wants to get revenge on who ever actually killed Sara."

Sam settled on one of the sturdier chairs that were scattered around, "Felicity mentioned something about Nyssa but sort of glossed over it."

Dig sighed, "Sara and Nyssa were a couple, when Sara was in the League."

Sam saw Dean's eyes widen with appreciation at that thought then narrow back down as he processed all of what that could mean. "Wow, Oliver sure knows how to pick'em. Wait, how sure are we that Nyssa isn't suffering jilted lover syndrome and killed Oliver out of spite? She could lie the show up and kill Malcolm for killing Sara and try to bail."

"Nyssa seemed fine with Sara and Oliver being a couple again once Sara left the League, then Sara decided to rejoin the League and I don't know if they got back together or not."

"I think there's a bigger concern," Sam stated, "What if Nyssa is coming on her own without her Dad knowing? You say she jumped at the chance to make the switch, which makes no sense if they wanted Malcolm all along anyway."

"I don't think she would go that far and the League has a very convoluted code of honor from what I can tell," Dig replied.

"Yeah, honor code or not, a pissed off, grieving, ex-lover's word that she's bringing Oliver in one piece and functioning is not exactly reassuring," Dean pointed out, "We need to have some serious plans here if Nyssa or the League decides to not play nice." He looked around the cavernous building, "This place have an office that still has a door?"

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing," Sam said as Dig picked up on what Dean was suggesting and nodded.

"There's a few. I think we could use Roy too." Dig stated and pushed his earpiece, "Felicity, tell Roy to suit up."

"Got it," she replied.

Dean tossed Baby's keys to Sam who already knew what they needed from the trunk. "On it, you two scout out the offices." He walked out, popped the trunk, opened the compartment and started grabbing weapons.

They ended up moving Malcolm into a small office in the back corner of the warehouse. They tied him to some iron pipes that were jutting out of the walls and rearranged some furniture to give them cover if needed. There was a sight line from the second floor right into the door of the office that Roy and Sam could use to provide cover fire. Dig had brought a high powered rifle from the club along with a few other guns. Dig and Dean were going to be in the office to meet Nyssa and do the trade.

Sam had tried to get Dean to take his spot on the second floor but Dean had reminded him that Sam was the better shot with rifles and the look he gave Sam pretty much said the rest. Sam hadn't wanted to argue about it around Dig so agreed as much as he knew he probably shouldn't. He ended up moving some desks under where he was planning to stand to provide cover fire so if he had to jump down and stop Dean from killing people the desk would make the jump over the railing a shorter distance for him to go.

Malcolm had stirred once or twice but Dig just hit him with more tranquilizer, the last thing they wanted was Malcolm providing another unknown into the equation. Roy arrived all suited up and Sam was beyond surprised that Dean didn't make one comment about the suit, even though he could see a million of them swimming in his brother's eyes. "Proud of you," Sam told him when Roy walked off to go upstairs and find the best spot for him to be. "You actually managed to keep your mouth shut."

Dean's lips were pressed tight together as his shoulders shook with barely restrained laughter, "I just couldn't man. He's already had a bad enough day and he looked so serious. Who the hell designed that suit anyway? It makes him look like a biker who went into fetish mode."

"I think that's an answer we'd both be happier not knowing," Sam replied.

"Guys, she's here," Felicity's calm voice interrupted. "I've been tracking small planes that have been coming in and spotted her on a traffic cam. She's not alone either. I think she's got at least one car full of people following her. I can't spot Oliver, they are all wearing League outfits."

All Dean's laughter instantly faded, the lips that were pressed together to prevent laughter from escaping briefly twisted into a smile filled with bloodlust driven excitement then settled into Dean's usual down to business look. Although it lasted the smallest of seconds what Sam had seen was enough to turn his blood into ice. _Not good, not good at all. They aren't even here yet._

"Sam, you should probably join Roy up top," Dig said just as he was about to mention something to Dean. The moment lost he nodded and walked away wondering if he'd end up having to use the rifle on his own brother.

He joined Roy on the balcony and they both ducked behind some ruined furniture they had stacked into a defensive wall. "Sam?" Roy said in low tones.

"Yeah?"

"Sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have snapped at you guys. Dig told me some of what you've been through while we were prepping. Not sure I believe it all but if even half of it is true, what you said was right. Strategically you guys are a better fit for this than me."

He took a much longer look at Roy, even though his face was mostly hidden there was a sense about him. He was trying as hard as he could to make up for lost ground and become as competent as Oliver, and he was definitely committed to the mission that Oliver seemed to have lost sight of. "Roy, sometimes I don't even believe half of what we've been through and survived. Don't underestimate yourself, you can see the bigger picture. It took a lot of maturity to offer to stay behind earlier. You put the ultimate goal ahead of your own wants, it takes a lot more confidence and courage to do that then go barreling head first into things. Don't let Oliver's experience in fighting make you think he always knows the best way of handling things. Trust me, out of the box thinking and different perspectives wins a lot more fights than just relying on your experience and sticking with a rigid plan. You guys can be a great team, you just need to be willing to act as one, no matter what. No one, not Oliver, Dig or even Felicity will have all the answers. The sum is usually greater than it's parts."

Roy nodded, the grateful smile that crossed his face made him seem even younger which clashed with the mask he wore and the deadly weapons he carried. "Thanks."

Sam got the impression that Oliver wasn't the best for teaching using positive reinforcement, that realization made him feel an odd kind of kinship with Roy. He didn't know much about Roy's past but he was more than familiar with trying to live up to an older brother who loomed large in your world view growing up; who you'd always thought was perfect and bulletproof. A brother who'd always be there, strong, confident and protecting you from the world, even if you didn't want him to.

"Sure thing,"

"They're pulling up," Felicity warned them, "There's eight of them, no wait, nine. Great job getting those camera angles Dig."

"Thanks. Any sign of Oliver?" Dig asked.

"No but...something's odd. I think he's with them but wearing League gear. There's two of them who seem to be guarding a third, just judging by the way they are staying close to him."

"Well, we wouldn't want this to be too easy," Dean muttered.

The door creaked open, "John Diggle, I am here as agreed. Where is Malcolm Merlyn?" An exotically accented female voice rang out. It was fairly obvious that the owner of that voice was used to being obeyed without question.

"That's Nyssa huh?" Dean asked and Sam could tell by his tone that his brother, just like he, was quickly rearranging their views of Nyssa and the League. Sam watched them fan out across the floor, searching the shadows without exchanging any words, each person knowing their exact role and what needed to be done. They were quick, light on their feet and far more skilled fighters than anything he or Dean had tangled before.

"Let's hope this goes well guys or we are in deep trouble," Sam whispered to the others.

"Stay sharp guys," Dig said, "I'm going to meet her."

"Got you covered," Sam replied as he sighted through the rifle and he heard Roy nock an arrow in preparation.

"Nyssa, I'm coming out," Dig yelled and every League members head instantly oriented on the direction his voice had come from, a few of them pulled weapons until one of them, Sam had to assume it was Nyssa, raised her hand.

"Fine. Show yourself."

"Dean, they're fast on the draw," Sam reported, "Looks like four with swords, three with staffs and the rest with bows, who knows what they have under hidden in their clothes though."

"Got it."

Dean's voice was his, but it wasn't. _Shit, who's more of a threat, the League or him? _


	8. All Bets Are Off

Sam felt his hand tighten on the stock of the rifle and he heard the high pitched hum of a bowstring being drawn tight as Dig walked into his and Roy's line of sight. He pulled his eye away from the scope so he could keep an eye on the whole group, not just Nyssa.

"Roy, look. That's got to be the group Felicity mentioned." There were three men, he assumed, in the center of the group, one had his hands close together in front of him, bound together, and the other two were standing entirely too close to that one if he was part of the team. They all had hoods and masks on so from a distance he couldn't make out any features so he peered through the scope. The one who's hands were tied chose that exact moment to shift his head towards Sam's position and there was no mistaking Oliver's eyes, especially when they were that filled with rage. Sam almost pulled back when the force of that gaze hit him straight on.

"Yup, that's Oliver and he's pissed, actually a bit more than pissed."

"So we shouldn't expect thank you cards?" Roy quipped.

"Probably not." Sam pressed the earpiece, "Guys, Oliver is in the back, his outfit looks like the rest but I saw his eyes. Felicity how do we leave the earpieces on all the time so we can talk once the action gets going?"

"There's a little clip on the back that hooks the button to on," she answered just as Nyssa stepped a few steps forward to meet with Dig.

"Where is he?" Nyssa asked, her voice no longer dispassionate.

_She really has it in for Malcolm. Let's hope he makes it back to where ever her Dad is. _Sam thought as he focused his attention back on Nyssa and off of Oliver

"Back this way," Dig replied, "Where's Oliver? You don't get Malcolm until I see Oliver."

Nyssa nodded, flicked her hand and the men on either side of him reached out to take Oliver's arms but he moved a bit too quick and got a few steps ahead of them. Everyone, including Sam and Roy, tensed.

"Don't be stupid.." Sam muttered.

Oliver got to Nyssa's side. She pulled back the hood so Dig could see Oliver was unharmed even if he was gagged.

Dig's eyes narrowed, "Ra's doesn't know he's here does he?"

"That's not your concern," Nyssa snapped.

"Uh huh," Dig said as his eyes started moving around the room and Sam got the distinct impression that things were about to go south. "So if I hand Malcolm over to you, what's the guarantee that Ra's doesn't try to lay waste to this city out of spite since you changed the game without telling him?"

Nyssa ripped the veil off her face and Sam was instantly struck by her deadly beauty. "I am the heir to the Demon.."

"What?" Dean snapped, "Demon?"

"That's his title, not his species." Felicity replied, "Or so we think."

"...Merlyn disobeyed the League," Nyssa continued, "He will be punished, my father never should have accepted Oliver substituting himself for Malcolm. Oliver has done nothing wrong. I will make my father see reason."

Sam could see Dig wasn't the least bit happy with her answer but they were running low on options. "Fine, untie Oliver and I'll...

"Guys!" Felicity shouted at the same time that the warehouse erupted with the sound of several small explosions accompanied the sound of breaking glass. "They rappelled in, no cameras up top..sorry!"

Several more League members burst into the room. One of them shouted something in a foreign language then he saw something flick towards Nyssa's back. "Nyssa! Dig! Down!"

"I will have my revenge!" Nyssa shouted in reply as she spun out of the way, drew her sword and faced the man that had shouted out her, "If he wishes to kill me so be it."

Sam took a moment to take a quick count, "Looks like we got another nine or ten joining the party."

"Perfect," Dean snarled and then Sam saw him enter the room behind Dig, he was holding his gun in one hand and the knife he'd taken off Cain in the other.

"Let's grab Oliver and Malcolm and go. They can fight it out." Roy suggested. Not half a second later the League members that were after Nyssa had landed on the ground in front of her, half of the ones that had come with her seemed to be willing to back her, the other half sided with the ones against her.

She was outnumbered and two lunged at her, she blocked, grabbed a knife from her belt, sliced the rope that tied Oliver's hands together, shoved the knife into his hands and raised her sword again. "My father will kill you in that duel, then Thea will have lost yet another family member and Sara will remain unavenged. Is that how you honor the women you care for? By dying and leaving them to mourn, their spirits to cry out in restless anger and hate? You will have saved nothing Oliver Queen. Not Thea, not Sara, not your city. They will all burn in your absence."

Oliver's hand tightened around the handle of the knife, looked at the assassins surrounding them and then lunged forward.

"Damn it!" Sam snarled and sighted through the scope as Roy's arrows flew over his head and landed in the arm of an assassin trying to stab Nyssa. The assassin barely flinched as he pulled the arrow out of his arm and moved forward again.

Sam took out the legs of two of them, they screamed as they fell to the floor, then Dean came into his field of vision and he realized he hadn't heard Dean's gun fire once. _What the? Oh no." _Dean's back was to him and he saw the gun tucked into his waistband just as he saw his brother block a sword strike, slice the throat of his attacker then stab him in the chest and stomach as he fell. He was moving much faster and with more power than he usually did, triggering Sam's memory of when he watched Cole and his brother fight. Dean spun, stabbed another assassin in the leg, stepped behind him as he fell and was about to break his neck.

Sam wasn't even aware of the conscious decision, he felt himself pull the trigger and the assassin went limp. Dean looked up at him, frustration and hate tightening his jaw. He threw the lifeless body to the ground in disgust and seemed to sense the presence behind him as soon as Sam saw another assassin taking a swing at Dean's neck with a sword.

Sam shifted his aim and put a bullet into the assassin's head and he dropped. _I can't let him kill anyone else. The more he does the less of Dean is left. Screw this! I'm getting him out of here. _He hopped over the balcony rail, landed on the desk and started to rush over to Dean.

"Sam!" Dig shouted, "Behind you." An arrow whizzed past him into the shoulder of the man who was about to clobber him with a staff. The man screamed and he slammed the stock of the rifle into the man's face, dropping him in one hit. Nyssa had dispatched three others, he had lost track of Oliver while he was covering Dean but spotted him being hard pressed by three people just as another assassin closed with Dean.

Sam lifted the rifle, shot the man that his brother was about ready to disembowel in the back, then rapid fired three more times and nailed the three that were after Oliver. Before he could move his eyes back to Dean a fist came flying towards his face, and it wasn't one of the League's.

"These are my kills bastard!" Dean raged as he ducked.

"Dean?" He heard Dig say.

Although he knew it was probably too late he had to try, "Dean! Snap out of it!"

"There is no out of it, this is what I am now." Dean's face was oddly unrecognizable to him. Every hint of the man he'd grown up with, who had saved him countless times was gone. "Either I kill them or you. Which is it?"

"Neither," Sam replied and fired into Dean's left leg then into his right shoulder. Dean howled, not in pain but in thwarted, hate filled, murderous rage, his voice dropping into a inhuman growl as he fell to the floor. He wrenched the blade out of Dean's hand and for some reason the entire battle paused as everyone stared at them.

Dean's sleeve had slid up and the Mark was visible as he laid on the floor, snarling up at him. Nyssa noticed the Mark and muttered something in a foreign language, then shouted out an order in the same language. Every single assassin left standing took three steps back from he and Dean and made some sort of warding gesture with their hands. She looked at Dig. "Give me Merlyn and we will leave. He is one of the Lost Ones, those wounds will not stop him for long. You.." she pointed at Sam. "You care for him yes?"

"He's my brother."

Resignation filled Nyssa's face, "Then if you honor who he was kill him now. Those who bear that Mark almost always turn into horrors which reap death, destruction and pain upon the world. The League has had to destroy many of them over the years."

"Those? Wait?" Sam was stunned, "That's the Mark of Cain, as far as we know Cain has never shared it with anyone else."

Nyssa shook her head, "No, he has, many times."

"Did they all..." Sam couldn't finish the sentence.

"As far as I know," Nyssa answered, "Although there are rumors that some managed to rid themselves of it through some kind of ritual but I don't know the details."

Sam almost dropped the rifle, "How?" He completely forgot the situation he was in, that he was surrounded by deadly killers and was supposed to be saving Oliver. "Please...anything you can tell me."

She looked at Oliver and Dig, "Where's Malcolm?"

Sam understood. She wasn't going to help him without getting what she came for. "He's in the back office, knocked out. Take him." She pointed at two of her people, "John Diggle, take these two and show them where he is. They will not harm you. We will not shed blood around one of the Lost Ones, it only makes them stronger. Go." She looked back at Sam. "What I have heard is the ritual requires the blood of the Lost Ones kin along with the blood of Cain and much pain. It must be done at the moment when the Lost One is at the brink of losing all their humanity. If the Lost Ones will is strong enough and their desire to become pure again outweighs their desire to kill at that moment the curse is shattered. All I know beyond that is that the ritual itself last for many days. I am sorry I don't know more. The story has been passed down through the League for generations, I think the ritual is Sumerian in origin."

Dig and the two assassins returned, dragging Malcolm between them and as soon as Nyssa spotted Malcolm her face twisted into a close facisimile of what Dean's had looked like moments before. "Al Sa-her, I shall enjoy watching my father flay the skin off your bones." She hissed, "Take him." The two men dragged Merlyn out of the room and all the rest followed them, leaving just Nyssa who walked up to Sam and put her hand lightly on his arm.

"I will pray that you can save him, but I will also tell you this. If he continues down this road and you do not kill him, we will." Then she walked away.

He was still so caught up in what she had said and having to shoot Dean that he didn't even notice Oliver approaching, "Sam?"

Oliver's voice brought him back to the moment and he looked around. Dig and Oliver's faces were as calm as possible but their eyes were filled with confusion and concern, Roy had joined them and he just looked stunned.

"Sam?" Dean whispered, "Do it, put an end to this."


	9. Limited Options

"No," Sam answered, "Not when we just got our first break on a way to fix this." He was still staring off into space, processing Nyssa's information.

"You call that a break?" Dean coughed, "A rumor about something from a bunch of killers?"

That made Sam snap back to reality and he looked down at Dean, the other presence had receded and he recognized his brother again. "A bunch of killers that recognized the Mark when there's not a useful piece of lore about it in the entire library back home! Yeah that's a break." Blood was pooling around Dean's leg and staining his shirt yet it seemed to Sam there should be a lot more and he remembered Nyssa's statement about the wounds not stopping Dean for long. _Does the Mark make him heal faster? Damn it. I need him to be recovering for as long as possible, I need time to track down what ever ritual she was talking about. _

Dig took a few steps closer to the both of them, he had two strips of fabric in his hands. "Here, let's slow that bleeding for now. If you're not going to try to take anyone else out we can get you to the hospital." Sam was rather shocked about how calm Dig was.

Dean didn't even reply, just looked away from all of them and Sam saw a different darkness start to take his brother over. It was a darkness he was more than familiar with, "This wasn't..."

"Shut up Sam. If you're going to move me, move me, if not put me down now."

Sam took the fabric from Dig, wrapped one piece tightly around Dean's leg and gave the other one to Dean to push against his shoulder wound. "Let's get you to the ER." Dean just nodded and tried to staunch the bleeding from his shoulder. Sam and Dig picked him up and started carrying him when he tapped Sam on the shoulder. "Wait," they stopped moving and he turned his head to stare directly at Oliver, "Go see Thea. We didn't do all this crap to have you follow me to the hospital."

"But.." Oliver started to reply.

"But nothing," Dean snapped, "She knows all your damn secrets now, at least all the ones we do. You're damn lucky she chose to help us instead of leaving your self absorbed ass to die at the hands of the League. Stop playing the hero and start being a brother, that's if you still want to have a sister

As Dean scolded him, Oliver's face went utterly cold at first but his eyes went from icebergs to guilt ridden by the time Dean was done talking. "How..."

"Just talk to her," Sam explained, "Drop the walls and let her in. She has her own pain and she needs you as much as you need her. He's right, she's home probably pacing the floor waiting for you. Get out of here."

Oliver nodded a bit stiffly, "All right, but I'll.."

"Not drop by later," Dean interrupted, "Not the first time I've been shot. Don't use me as an excuse to bail on Thea again. Spend time with her. Let's go guys."

Dig and Sam started moving, Oliver opened the door for them and he and Roy went back to the club to change while Dig and Sam took Dean to the hospital.

After they took Dean back to surgery, Sam couldn't settle down. He kept silently pacing the lobby, mind racing a million miles an hour, _How do we get Cain's blood? Dean killed him. Can we modify it somehow? Why didn't Cas know about the others? How are we going to get through a ritual taking several days? What if Dean doesn't stop and kills me? I need Cas to be there if..._

"Sam?" Felicity's voice came from behind him, not from the earpiece he was still wearing, bringing his thoughts to a screeching halt. He turned around just as she wrapped her arms around him. "Is he okay? Are you? What's going on?"

He was so focused on the implications of the spell that he wasn't in any way prepared for a hug or comforting from anyone. He and Dean had been dealing with the Mark for close to a year now and the only other person who knew anything about it was Charlie and she hadn't been in touch for a few months. The sheer amount of energy he'd been putting into supporting Dean, trying to keep him on an even keel, had been his entire focus for months. The sensation of Felicity's arms around him jarred his focus, her simple questions reached past the locks he'd put on his emotions and what came raging up from deep inside staggered him.

" We..," he gave up on trying to talk and just clung to her while battling with the storm that whirled in his mind and soul.

"Hey," Dig's solid, calm voice joined the reassuring hand Sam felt on his shoulder, "How about we all take a walk outside?"

He barely managed to nod, Felicity pulled away from him but kept an arm around his waist while Dig's arm rested on his shoulders. They left the lobby and found a quiet spot in one of the many courtyards that were dotted around the hospital grounds. He sat on a chair, Felicity scooted one close to him and sat down resting her hand on his leg and Dig pulled one up across from him.

"Talk?" Dig asked.

He didn't even know where to start, what to say. "It's just so..." he paused and focused on a tree in the distance, "hopeless. He'll be gone by the time I figure out how to save him. I know it. He's not even trying to fight anymore. I failed him once, I can't do it again. I can't."

Dig and Felicity kept quiet, letting him decide how much he wanted to say. He found he didn't even really want to get into details but knew that he needed to. The almost unbearable tightness in his chest accompanied by the tendrils of the stark mind numbing fear that were slowly creeping into his mind pushed the words out. "Last year, Dean, well he sort of lost his way. I was sick, in a coma actually, because of something and.." even though he had on some level forgiven Dean for it, a flash of betrayal added itself into the boiling pot of emotions he was feeling, "he lied to me, about something pretty major. We spent most of the year pissed at each other, we spent months apart, when we were hunting together we barely spoke. He got involved with the King of Hell and made a stupid choice regarding something called the First Blade, took on the Mark of Cain, died trying to kill the Scribe of God and Crowley, the King of Hell brought him back as a demon."

The memories of the months he'd spent trying to find Dean added a dash of panic onto everything else, "I knew of a ritual to cure a demon, or so I hoped. It seemed to work, at first. But the Mark...well it's something no one, not even Castiel, really knows anything about. It's destroying him...it's..."

He sunk his face into his hands and just gave up on being calm, rational._ He's_ _not here right now, I don't have to put on the act. There's no point to it now. _

In between waves of complete inability to talk, Dig and Felicity coaxed more details out of him. By the end, he didn't feel any better or more able to save Dean; his hopelessness hadn't receded, it was actually worse because he'd finally admitted it out loud. He'd never felt so numb in his life, so useless.

"What Nyssa said, this is your first lead on this?" Felicity asked.

"Yeah. We looked all over the net and nothing ever popped up about a Sumerian ritual, like I said. We even asked Cas and he knew nothing either."

"Really?" There was more than a hint of a challenge being accepted in her voice and he was drawn, like a man dying of thirst when he sees a pool of water, to that vibrant energy pouring off of her. His head slowly turned towards her and everything about her stood out to him; the confident smile, the concern in her eyes and her sheer strength of will, of refusing to stop no matter what the odds. All of that reached into his memories and pulled out all the times he and Dean had looked like that, had felt that nothing could stop them. Her smile went from confident to mischievous, "So what you're saying is that when I find this spell, translate it and hand it over to you I will have pulled off something that not even angels could. Is that accurate?"

"Actually, yeah," he answered just as Dig chuckled.

She tossed her head lightly to one side, pulled out her tablet from her purse and started tapping the screen. "Well then, may as well get started. I mean, how many hackers could ever say that they know more about something then Heaven. Right?"

As much as he wanted to take the hope she offered he found himself doubting her, "We scoured the net Felicity.."

She didn't even look up from her screen, "Did you hack into the database of every Middle Eastern library along with the Vatican's?"

"Wait, the Vatican?"

"Did you borrow the processing power of the NSA's new super servers to run translation algorithms on ancient Sumerian stone tablets and scrolls?"

"Uh, no.."

She finally looked up and fixed him with an pitying look, "Then Sam, you did not, as you say, scour the internet." She sniffed a bit haughtily, "You Googled it, maybe hacked a few local databases. That is not scouring, that is searching. There is a rather large difference."

Dig's chuckle turned into a full on laugh which lasted a few moments then he grew serious, "You should have brought this to her months ago. If there's a cure for this, you know she won't stop until she finds it."

Sam just stared at her and that hopelessness started to recede, the fear unwinding it's ever encroaching vines from his mind. "I didn't even think of that. I don't know why."

"Because you're just as bad as he is about asking for help," Felicity muttered, already completely hyper focused on her screen.

He pushed her tablet to the side and nearly pulled her out of her chair to give her a hug, "Thank you, thank you..."

"No problem," she replied, "I should be thanking you, I've gotten bored hacking into the FBI,CIA and NSA databases for Oliver anyway. This will be much more challenging."

He finally managed to laugh. It was a weak, short laugh but it was a start. "Glad I could give you a new project."

She hugged him back then kissed him lightly on the cheek, "Go see how he's doing. I'll go back to the club and start running searches. Don't worry about answers right now, just be there for him."

"Can you give me a lift back?" Dig asked. "I need to get back home to Lyla, she had an appointment later today so I need to watch Sara. I'll see if she can get ARGUS looking into this for you too Sam."

"Sure," Felicity replied.

"Thanks, both of you," he said as they stood up and walked back inside.

Dig smiled, "No problem."

They split up at the lobby, he walked to the desk and was told to go back, that the doctors wanted to talk to him. As soon as he walked back into the ER proper and gave his name a doctor at the desk looked up at him. "You're Dean's brother?"

"Yes."

The doctor set down the chart he was looking at and motioned for Sam to follow him. They went into a side room and sat down. The doctor had short cropped black hair, brown eyes and a very inquisitive face. "I'm Dr. Winston, we're having to pin his leg back together, whoever shot him used a high powered rifle at close range and put a large hole into his femur. He must have some hard bones though because there should have been more damage. Those types of gunshot wounds tend to fracture the bone as well but somehow this is just a nice clean hole. His shoulder is a through and through, it barely clipped the top of his scapula. We found something in the xrays though."

Sam saw a hint of disbelief in the doctor's eyes. "What is it?"

"Well there's something caked on his ribs along with all these marks on his bones, which we're wondering you have any idea of how those got there."

"Marks on his bones?" The angel warding had gotten them more than their fair share of medical inquiries over the years. "No. What's this caking his ribs? Is it cancer?"

"Not from what we can tell, it's not spots or tumors." The Doctor just shook his head, "If I didn't know better I would say it looks like some sort of slime or oil. I don't know if it's spreading or what it's doing but we'd like to run some tests."

That was the last thing he ever expected to hear, "Can I see his xrays?"

"Sure, they're right over here," the doctor turned and flicked on a light on the light box behind him and Sam almost bolted off the stool he was sitting on. There were streaks of black along each of Dean's ribs, that wasn't the part that ratcheted his panic levels up to an all new high. The angel warding had originally covered their ribs completely, yet he saw gaps towards the edges of Dean's ribs, the black streaks seemed to moving from the outer edges of the rib cage towards the center and somehow removing the angel warding as they went. _Holy shit! How? Fuck!_

"Mr. Winchester? Are you all right?"

"Um...yeah. I mean no, I have to talk to him about this first," he deflected.

"Of course. It will be a few more hours until he's in recovery. I'll have them page you when he's out."

"Thank you." They both stood up, left the room and Dr. Winston disappeared down the hall leaving him with a whole new set of disturbing questions he knew he had no answers to.


	10. To Come Full Circle

His mind still spinning, he fumbled in his pocket, pulled out his phone and haphazardly scrolled through his contacts to Cas's name.

"Sa.."

"Cas! It's Dean, the warding, it's taking it off!" His words tumbled out as his heart sped up to meet the racing thoughts that flew by.

"What? Sam, slow down. I don't understand."

He took a deep breath, realized he was still in the hall and people were starting to stare at him. "Hold on, let me get away from people." He turned down the hall, rushed through the lobby and back outside.

"Fine."

Once he reached the outside air he continued, "I shot Dean, we had to take him to the hospital and they asked about the angel warding on his ribs but it wasn't just that. There are these black streaks on his ribs and I swear they're erasing the warding. Most of the markings on the outside edges are gone. What the hell could do that?"

There was a brief pause, when he spoke again Sam could tell Cas was struggling to remain calm. "You shot him?"

"Yeah, he lost it, we're helping Oliver. I shot him in the shoulder and leg, he's fine."

"You took him to help Oliver? Around other people? Sam!"

"Cas, not now! Focus on the warding, you can yell at me later. You won't be able to say anything I haven't already told myself."

"I...fine," Cas snapped then lapsed into silence for several minutes. "That warding was something that very few angels know how to do I also added a few unique touches. I honestly don't know who or what could do that. That is carved into his bones so whatever is doing it is rebuilding him on a the deepest level there is."

"But why?"

"My best guess, the Mark is from Lucifer and Hell, I am from Heaven. The Mark would not tolerate the existence of anything divine within him."

He froze in place, "It can do that?"

"Sam, the Mark is one of the most powerful things in existence. There are very good reasons Cain has always been so feared."

"Cas, I need answers. Listen," he repeated to Cas the things Nyssa had said about the Mark.

"Hmmm, Sumerian. It's possible."

Cas's calm, almost academic tone triggered months of frustration to finally surface, "Why didn't you know about this?"

"Because I am not all knowing!" Cas replied with a significant amount of heat, "You two seem to forget that. None of us were tasked to watch Cain over the centuries. He was not a major concern, he was in Hell remember? Not a place we could easily watch. When he would surface and cause an issue we dealt with him as best we could but as you saw, I was hardly a match for him. Even at full power I needed others with me. Once the Knights of Hell were massacred and we thought he was dead as well we moved onto other things. You humans have so often scattered and destroyed your libraries over the centuries I am amazed that we found anything on him at all after so long. I will see if I can find answers but it's not likely. Do you want me to come heal him and try to reapply the wards?"

"No." Now, even more than before, he needed time and if Dean was up and moving he wouldn't have it. He'd be having to worry about just where Dean was, what he was doing. "I need him to take as long as possible to heal. He's, well it's gotten bad Cas. I'm locking my door at night and sleeping with a gun again. I, I can't trust him. I wake up every few hours and check on him, he's spending hours at the gun range."

"I see," Cas replied, voice filled with impending loss and deep sadness, "I will do what I can," he paused again, "You know why he gave me the First Blade." It wasn't a question.

Sam's stomach dropped, "Yes."

"Don't wait to call me until he's done something truly horrific."

"Cas.."

"Sam, there are some battles you cannot win."

"I won't give up!"

Cas's reply cut through all his pain and landed on that cold, rational side of his brain, "There's a large difference between giving up and prolonging someone's pain far past when it is called for. You are living in fear of your brother, from the small bit you've told me he was two steps away from committing another massacre. Sam, please. He begged me to not let him go down that path again. Do not let him live the rest of his life destroying his legacy as a hunter who saved millions. If this ritual fails..."

"I..okay," he sighed, "I understand."

"If Felicity manages to track it down I will come and help you with the translation. I don't trust computers to do it right."

"Thanks."

"Keep in touch."

"I will." Cas hung up leaving him standing outside a hospital wishing that those black marks were cancer, not another insidious sign that the Mark was winning. Cancer they could fight, _I never thought I would be wishing someone I cared about had cancer._

The sound of passing cars along with a distant wail of a siren were deafening in their normalcy, clashing with the conversations he'd just had. _Cas is right, I know that. I just..._ Endless circles of useless, repetitive thoughts chased their tails while he slowly walked back to the surgery waiting room. He lost track of time while he stared off into space, there was no point to look on the net on his phone, he wouldn't find anything Felicity couldn't, no point calling anyone. The situation forced him to stop and face the reality of the situation head on. He couldn't hide from it by doing research, trying to find a hunt or anything else. The antiseptic, nondescript decor of the waiting room surgically removed all his avoidance tactics._ What is worse than a demon? Why do I get the feeling that is what he is becoming? Most demons aren't as bloodthirsty as he is, they don't have a driving need to kill. Sure they'll kill you for kicks but they're usually more on the scheming, causing chaos end of things. Cain was a Knight of Hell, he was the thing that demons feared, even more than Lucifer or Crowley it seems. How bad of a monster do you have to be to be the thing the monsters want nothing to do with? Cain was completely intent on wiping out a tenth of the entire population of the planet. To him it was nothing, just a stroll in the park. He claimed it was some sort of penance, a way to right his wrongs but when we met he seemed to nonchalant, so calm, so rational. Yet he had killed women, kids, dozens of them. _A vision rose in his mind, Dean surrounded by bodies, holding the First Blade and not showing the least hint of remorse or guilt at the destruction he had caused. What disturbed him much more than the thought itself was that there was no instant denial that came along with it. _This could happen, I have to face up to that. God knows I want to stop it but back at that warehouse, calling them his kills. The longer we let this go the closer this reality gets. Please, if anything good, not evil, is listening, please let this ritual exist, let me save him, save us._

_"_Mr. Winchester?" The gentle female voice that interrupted his thoughts sounded like she had repeated his name several times. He looked up and into the compassionate green eyes of the nurse who'd been manning the desk. "Your brother is in recovery, if you follow me I'll show you where he is."

"Oh. Is he okay?" He asked as he stood up.

"Yes, he'll be laid up for a few weeks while that leg heals though."

"That's all?" He'd been hoping for two or three months.

"Well with the tools we have now, we cause a lot less damage to the muscles than we used to," she informed him as they turned a corner, "and the damage to his bone wasn't too hard to pin together. I'm not saying he can run marathons but he'll be up and walking in about three or four weeks at the latest. You'll probably need a wheelchair for him at first since that shoulder will make it hard for him to be on crutches."

_If the Mark helps him heal somehow that three or four weeks will most likely get shortened to two. Damn it!_

"Here we are," she said as they halted in front of a door.

"Thanks."

She gave him a brief smile and walked away, he took a deep breath and opened the door. Dean groggily moved his head as he walked in but said nothing.

"Hey, how you feeling?"

Dean muttered something under his breath, it was so soft he couldn't quite catch it but then Dean's voice changed, taking on on odd accent and as he stepped closer to the bed he heard "Kill him," quite distinctly. His legs stopped moving. "Dean? Hey! You still with me?" He knew better than to try to shake him awake.

Dean's eyelids fluttered a few times, he blinked once or twice then opened his eyes almost completely and looked up at him. "Yeah. I guess." He failed to meet Sam's eyes for more than a few seconds before looking away and lapsing into an uncomfortable silence. Finally he shifted on the bed and glanced back at Sam, "You should have aimed lower on my chest."

Sam pulled a chair closer to the bed and leaned in, "You don't ever, ever get to say that. Not after all the times you pulled me back from the edge, watched over me, saved my life. All the times you talked me off the edge, made me fucking fight even when I wanted to give up. You do not get to give up! I won't stand for it."

Dean halfheartedly shrugged and closed his eyes again. "Then sit for it. Doesn't matter and I'm too tired for a pep talk."

"Dean.."

"Sam, shut up. I'm not in the mood."

He leaned back, "All right, get some rest. I'll go tell the doctor to do the extra tests he wanted to do after seeing that black slime on your ribs."

That got Dean's attention, his eyes opened back up, "What black slime?"

"The slime that seems to be erasing the angel warding, but I'm sure it's nothing."

There was a odd flicker of recognition in Dean's eyes. "The angel warding?"

"Yeah, oh and the fact that you just said kill him in a completely different accent right before you woke up."

Dean sighed and instead of rebelling against the ever increasing evidence that something was taking him over, like he would normally do, he just closed his eyes again and tilted his head away from Sam. "Like I said Sam, you should have aimed lower."

_I can't fight this for him! Think. We need to go some place away from everything, weapons, research all of it. This ritual, if we find it, hinges on him. I have to find some way to make him want to fight again. _An idea hit him, an idea borne purely out of desperation and the depths that Dean had sunk to. "I'll be right back." Dean didn't even acknowledge he'd heard him. He stepped out of the room and called Oliver.

"What's up?"

Oliver sounded more relaxed than he had ever heard him. The conversation with Thea must be going well, "I know this is probably a long shot but do you still have the lake house?"

"Yes, thanks to some quick, last minute legal dealings. Why?"

"I want to take Dean there. I'll explain more later."

"No need, Felicity sent me an email about what you told her and Dig," he paused for a beat, "It's not as tidy as it was. I didn't keep the caretakers on since I've turned it into a backup hideout. I'll take a run up there, restock the fridge for you though and stick a spare key under the loose plank on the front porch."

"Oliver, even if it was a complete wreck it'd still be one of the nicest places we've ever stayed. Sounds like things are going well with Thea."

"Yeah, tell Dean thanks for the scolding."

"I will. Bye." He hung up, "Not that he probably cares right now but I'll tell him anyway."


	11. Into The Hills

He returned to Dean's bedside, "Oliver says thanks for scolding him. It sounds like he and Thea had a good talk."

The corners of Dean's lips twitched up for a brief moment, hinting at a smile then he opened his eyes and Sam saw small sliver of happiness in them, "Good, nice to know I managed to do one thing right still somehow. Why'd you call Oliver?"

"As soon as we can check you out I'm taking you to his Lake house, not home."

"Wasn't that where he took you after my trip to Hell?"

"Yes."

Sam watched curiosity war with apathy on his brother's face. Curiosity won out, which gave Sam a minute amount of hope. "Why?"

"One, it's a hell of a lot closer, two no weapons, three it will be easier to communicate with Felicity on what she finds..." he trailed off.

"And?"

"Look, when Oliver took me there at first I thought it was useless but once I got there, well it helped. A new place, a beautiful place and it's away from everything."

"You mean from people," Dean just cut straight to the chase.

"Yes."

"But you'll still be there right?"

"Of course." He didn't quite understand what Dean was hinting at.

Dean wearily shook his head, "'You mentioned I said kill him, not them. Who do you think I, or rather it, was referring to?"

"I know and don't care."

The little bit of life that Oliver's thank you had brought out faded from Dean's face. "Ever occur to you I do."

"Yeah, so? Since when did my caring about not wanting to be saved ever stop you from saving me? Well, now it's your turn. You're stuck with me. Deal with it, either fight the Mark or kill me. I'm not leaving." He sat down in the chair and stared Dean down.

Temper flared in Dean's eyes then he looked away, "Last thing I'm saying on this topic, remember how badly I screwed things up the last time I saved you."

"Well, it's a good thing I tend to research before I act then, unlike you," he shot back. Dean didn't reply and the rest of the day passed in silence that was only disturbed when he went and got food or when they brought food in for Dean. Visiting hours had long since ended but the staff got the hint that he wasn't leaving and rolled in an extra bed for him. He figured Dean wouldn't be wandering the halls with his leg stitched up, his arm in a sling and doped up on painkillers so he got the first full night's sleep he'd had in months.

They dissuaded Dr. Winston's test requests by stating they were from out of state and wanted to handle all that back home and checked Dean out the next day. Dig drove up just as they stepped out of the lobby and pulled a wheelchair out of the trunk of his car. "Figured you guys would need this."

"Good timing and yeah we do," Sam replied. They transferred Dean to the passenger seat of the Impala, folded up the wheelchair and shoved it in the trunk. "Can you give me the address to the Lake House so I can GPS it?"

"Just follow me, I'm heading up there anyway. I need to pick up a few things and take them back to the Club." Dig shifted his eyes to Dean then back to Sam who got the hint. There were weapons at the house now and those needed to go.

"Sure, sounds good. I may have a few things for you to take back too," he replied as he eyed Baby's trunk.

Dig nodded, "No problem." Dig got back in his car, Sam slid into Baby's driver's seat and they left the hospital.

They were half way up the mountain road when Dean finally spoke, "I have to give Oliver's family this. They sure know how to pick real estate." It was the middle of fall and the trees were alive with colors as they faded into their winter hibernation, the smell of crackling leaves and crisp, sharp pre-winter air rushed past them as they drove.

"Yeah, I was up here during the spring, saw tons of deer, heard some wolves, there were lots of birds and the lake has plenty of fish. The sunsets are gorgeous too."

"When was the last time we fished?" Dean asked out of nowhere.

"We were teenagers, you were sixteen I think. It was the time we stole a car when Dad was on a hunt and we were bored out of our minds. The first time and last time I ever ditched school."

Dean chuckled, "Yeah, we almost got caught too. Didn't we get back to the room like ten minutes before Dad did?"

"Yup, and your dumb ass was sunburned because you were too macho to wear sunscreen. I still can't believe Dad bought that idiotic story you told."

"Come on Sam, you know he didn't. I think he was just happy we had a normal weekend for once."

He thought about it as he took a quick glance at Dean, _Damn, I've missed that smile. He looks almost normal again, at least for now. _The smile managed to stay on Dean's face for the rest of the drive, but it became more strained, more faked and he didn't speak again.

"Oliver's got to have some poles hidden in that place, you're going to be sitting a lot anyway," Sam offered as they pulled up to the house, "We could try our luck."

"Maybe. You giving the weapons in the trunk to Dig?"

He hadn't been expecting that and didn't reply at first.

"Makes sense," Dean continued, "Since the whole point of bringing me here is to keep me as far away from weapons as possible."

"Yeah."

"Wouldn't hurt to lock up the kitchen knives too," he said in an empty voice, "Just a suggestion."

"Oh...uh, okay." _So much for sleeping better up here._ He got out of the car, pulled the wheelchair out, helped Dean get into it then caught up with Dig who was holding the front door open.

"Felicity wanted me to tell you she'll be up later to hook up a computer for you to use. It's going to be directly linked with hers so you can see what she's found."

"Sounds good," he replied as he pushed Dean into the foyer. The first thing he noticed was there was less furniture and what remained was covered with drop cloths and sheets. "Did Oliver sell stuff off?"

"Yeah, he had to make it look like he was getting rid of the place. He actually transferred ownership to some sort of trust that he and Felicity managed to cobble together last minute, so on paper it doesn't look like he owns it."

"Oh, sneaky," Dean mentioned. "Hope there's still a bed or two."

"There is," Dig stated, "I think the best option for you is the master bedroom. Less cornering required to get to the bathroom, wheelchairs aren't known for their ease of turning."

"Finally, I get the big room," Dean managed to joke.

"Hey, you picked that room in the Bunker."

"That's because it's closer to the kitchen."

They wheeled Dean to his new accommodations and got him back into bed after he managed to change into sweats and t-shirt. "I'm good," he muttered as he closed his eyes again as the most recent dose of pain pills kicked in. Sam kept Dean's prescriptions with him, just in case.

Dig led him down to the basement where there was a rather large stash of weapons. "This may take a few trips," Dig said, "I'd forgotten how many we had up here. How's he doing?"

He grabbed as many guns as he could carry safely and walked back up the stairs, "Well, between not talking for hours, then when he does talk he's telling me I should have aimed lower on his chest, just great. I know it's only been a day but has she found anything yet?"

"Oddly enough, the Vatican has better cybersecurity than our government, which is rather disconcerting," Dig replied as they loaded guns into the trunk of his car. "So she's still trying to crack that but she has managed to hack into a lot of museums and found a few things, which judging by how pale her face went when the translations finished were probably not filled with good news. She didn't tell me, she said she wanted to see what you made of it first."

He leaned against the back door of the car, "Why am I not surprised it's bad news? Just one break, that's all I fucking want Dig."

"She'll find it, that I can promise you."

"What if there's not one to be found?"

"If I've learned anything from you two, it's that nothing, not even death is permanent. There's always a loophole, a weakness, that's just the nature of things. Look around you." Dig pointed towards the lake. "Millions of years ago this was the top of a mountain, we're standing on an extinct volcano. I don't care who created this Mark, it's the most basic rule of anything natural or supernatural from what you two have always said. There's always a weakness. We'll find it Sam."

He just nodded and they went down to get another load of weapons. Dig left about twenty minutes later and he went to check on Dean who was still sleeping, or acting like it. The master bedroom faced the lake and had a rather large sliding glass door that was attached to a deck complete with a hot tub. He walked closer to the door and saw that the tub was covered up and he assumed empty. The lake was completely still, there wasn't even the slightest ripple, the view drew him in and he opened the door as quietly as he could, stepped out and ended up leaning against the railing. _Fall always has that sense of waiting to it, a stillness no other season has. We've always been so bad about waiting, not doing anything, accepting what's ahead of us. Maybe that's where we need to be right now. _He looked over his shoulder and saw that Dean was watching him and his world tilted. In that moment he saw what his brother must have looked like when he begged Cas to make sure he didn't commit another massacre. It wasn't defeat or even fear that he saw. It was acceptance of what Dean was feeling, what the Mark was doing to him and it was a look he'd seen so often on his own face over the years he knew what he had to do next and he went in and sat down on the bed next to Dean. Sam focused on his eyes, trying to pull that last bit of strength out of his brother that he hoped was still there.

"I understand, I do," Sam started, "We both know how many times I've been right where you are and I promise you that if it comes to that either Cas or I will take care of it, we won't let you become that thing. But you have to promise me one more fight. This ritual, it's the first thing we've heard of that can fix this, but it's going to take both of us fighting to pull it off. Not just me."

Dean's eyes held his for a few moments and Sam saw him struggling with it, trying to come up with the strength but then he looked away. "Take it easy, I'll go make some food."

"Not all that hungry."

"Neither am I, but that doesn't matter," he said as he walked out of the room and headed to the kitchen. When he was just about done he heard the front door open and Felicity's voice, "Sam? Where are you?"

"Kitchen. Need help?" He asked as he moved towards the door.

"Yeah kind of."

As soon as he turned the corner into the foyer he had to smile. She was in jeans, sneakers and a t-shirt and had a monitor and keyboard precariously balanced on top of a basket filled with routers and random other bits. He grabbed the monitor and keyboard from the top of the pile and looked down into the basket. "I thought you were just going to be bringing one system, that looks like you're setting up a network."

"Well, I had planned on just one," she said as they walked down towards the media room, "Then I started running more and more searches and thought it'd be easier for you to sort through things if you had a few different screens. Then it dawned on me that maybe Dean would want to help too so I brought a whole system for him we could set up in the master bedroom if you think that's a good idea."

"Admit it," he chuckled, "You can't handle the idea that someone could just need one system."

She gave him a slightly sheepish look, "Well, I mean why would you want just one. That's so limiting."

They set the stuff down and she started to turn around to go get another load when he stopped her, "Dig said you found something already and that it didn't seem all that good. What was it?"

She paused, "I'm running it through another translation program because the notes from the museum said the scroll was damaged so it may not be accurate."

"Felicity. Please."

She sighed and faced him, "I'll show you the whole thing when we get up and running but the short version is that the Mark was designed by Lucifer to pervert the bonds between brothers. That he was jealous of Cain's willingness to sacrifice himself for Abel and wanted to destroy that love however he could. That Cain's curse isn't just about making his descendants more willing to kill, it's about making brothers kill each other. It said that the Mark searches for brothers whose love for each other is especially strong because that love is the most powerful and by destroying it the Mark itself grows stronger."

"So the more we love each other, the stronger the Mark gets?"

"That's what it seemed to say," she answered with sorrow in her eyes, "But like I said, it could be a bad translation."

"It isn't, trust me. I spent enough time with Lucifer to know that's how he thinks."

"What?"

"I'll tell you later." _Now it's personal, if I didn't know better I'd think he designed this just to torment me even more. Who knows, maybe he did. Dean and I said no to you once already asshole, we can do it again. _The months of being lost, of not having any actual direction and the overwhelming frustration with his failure to find answers coalesced into a mountain of rage with a very slow burning fuse. He had to control it, for now.


	12. Those Who Fail to Learn From History

"Sam? Let go."

He felt a slight tug as her words brought his attention to what was in his hands, it was the keyboard. He had set it down but still had his hand resting on it while she was talking and there were very definite creaks and groans coming from where his fingers had wrapped around the edges.

"Sorry. Let me give Dean the food I made for him and we can set the rest of this up."

"Think I can go with you and say hi? Or..."

"He'd probably appreciate it, c'mon."

She carried the glass of water and cup of coffee while he grabbed the plate of food, silverware and a tray. A few moments later they were in the master bedroom, Dean had shifted into a sitting position and was staring out the sliding glass door.

"Hi," Felicity said and to Sam's relief when Dean turned his head there was a genuine smile on his face, although it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Hi. You're a lot hotter than my usual nurse," Dean remarked as he pointed at Sam.

"I wouldn't go that far, I think he has better hair."

"Yeah, but you have better curves," Dean said with a slight wink. Felicity snickered and placed the cups she was carrying on the night stand next to Dean while he handed the tray of food to his brother. _He's trying, but there's nothing in his eyes. _As he took a step back after Dean took the tray from him Dean glanced at Felicity again then up at him, _Is that hate? Jealousy? What? _It was so brief he wasn't sure he'd even seen anything till more than a hint of revulsion replaced the emptiness in Dean's eyes. _It was. Why wasn't he like this before? He was violent but it wasn't directed at me. _

"You staying for awhile?" Dean asked.

"I'm setting up a network in the media room for Sam to use. Do you want a computer in here?"

"No, you can't watch porn on it," Sam added, although he wasn't quite sure where that thought came from.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Spoilsport." Then what little forced humor there was on his face left as quickly as it'd come. "Find anything yet?"

Felicity glanced at Sam, obviously not sure if it'd be a wise idea to tell him.

"So yes. Well?"

"Give us a few hours.," he stopped himself. "No, you know what. I'm not playing this like that. Yeah she did."

"It's not verified yet though," Felicity hastened to add.

Dean set his coffee down, "Okay. So?"

"She found some translations from a partial scroll. It's Lucifer Dean, it's what he built into the Mark."

"We know it's Lucifer Sam,"

"No, not like this. The Mark turns brother against brother."

Dean started to shrug but stopped, "You're not talking in the general sense are you?"

"No, Lucifer was jealous that Cain cared so much about Abel that he sacrificed himself, the Mark looks for brothers who are extremely close to each other. Lucifer designed the Mark to twist those bonds around, make them hate each other instead."

The color started to drain from Dean's face at the same time his eyes grew even sharper. Sam could see connections being made as that one piece of information seemed to hit Dean much harder than it hit him.

"Son of a bitch. Let me guess, the stronger the bond, once it breaks the stronger the Mark gets."

"Of course."

"There's more to it than that," Dean stated, "It's not just breaking the bond that makes it stronger." He closed his eyes and shook his head, "It's the harder you fight it. I can't win."

"Dean..look.."

Dean's eyes snapped back open, his internal struggles with hate and love twisting his face into a distorted caricature of itself. "Sam leave! It's over, call Cas."

He had no idea what to say or do until Felicity spoke up, "Sam get out of his line of sight. Let me talk to him."

"It's getting worse, you're not safe," Sam tried to argue with her, if only to take his mind off the quickly shifting sands under his feet.

"It's not me the Mark is trying to get him to kill," she countered while pushing him towards the door. "Just stand out in the hall if you want to make sure I'll be okay."

He stumbled backwards, while Dean turned away from him, again, and started taking deep breaths. "Do what she says Sam."

Once he was out a few steps out of the room, he felt his knees buckle as the weight of what had just happened finally hit. _All that effort denying Michael, fighting Lucifer, all of it meant nothing. We're right back to where we were. Sam against Dean. The entire goddamn world is trying to rip us apart. Why? _

_"_All right Dean, he's out of the room." Felicity's voice was rock solid which amazed him. "How about you tell me what you haven't told him?"

"No idea.."

"Not taking that as an answer," she interrupted, steel in her voice. "I've spent years around men who do nothing but try to hide their internal crap so just don't even bother. I get enough of it from Oliver, I don't have to take it from you. Neither does Sam. I heard what you told Oliver about Thea, to stop trying to be the hero."

"I'm not.." Dean said. "That's not what this is about."

"Then what is it about?"

"It's about the fact that when I was a demon I was actually safer to be around then I am now, at least for him. That these last few months it's taken every last bit of strength I have to stop myself from acting on the hate that gets stronger every damn minute. There's days Felicity when I almost can't separate out what it wants me to feel from what I am feeling, telling him all of that would have robbed us of what good times we managed to have. I'm not trying to be a hero, I'm just trying to spend as much time with him as I can before...before I'm gone. I was holding out okay until he shot me, which I don't blame him for, but.."

"He attacked you which gives the Mark more food for the hate," she theorized.

"Yeah, I guess. What just happened between he and I? If I wasn't laid up he'd be on the floor, bleeding."

He was too numb to feel anything at Dean's words. He couldn't be mad that Dean had been keeping things from him because he was right; knowing all of that would have just made him even more obsessed to find a cure, more frustrated and even more paranoid. _It's not like I didn't know he was getting worse, I just didn't know it was focusing on me, or maybe I did and didn't want to admit it. _

"I need an honest answer from you Dean," Felicity said. "No holding back, nothing."

"Why the hell not, it doesn't really matter now anyway. Shoot."

"Why did you agree to take the Mark without even bothering to look it up?"

"I'd failed everyone and I didn't care anymore. Crowley came to me with what I pretty much hoped would be a suicide mission, then when I survived that I went up against the angel that destroyed Heaven. I technically didn't survive that, yeah I'm still walking and breathing but that doesn't mean I survived."

_Well that explains a lot, he thinks he's already gone, already dead. All those hours we spent researching for a cure, for answers and deep down he could have cared less._

"So you think it's won already? The Mark."

"Yeah. The more I try to not hate him, the more I do. Every time I draw on some good memory or something it twists it against me. It's just a matter of time."

"So when I find this ritual.." she started,

"You mean if," Dean interrupted.

"When," her retort left no room for doubt, "I may as well just print it out and keep it as a memento of how I hacked into the Vatican, since you think this is all a lost cause."

He didn't reply.

"Uh huh. Dean I can't begin to comprehend what you've been fighting against, I have absolutely no frame of reference and hope I never will. What I do have a frame of reference for is the reason you need to find some way to fight, to hold on for a few more days."

"Oh? What's that?"

"Sam, you owe it to him."

"What do you think.." Dean snarled in frustration.

"Let me finish," Felicity snapped, "It's not why you think. You need to fight not to protect or save him. You need to fight because you owe it to him after putting him in the exact same position that he was in when we found him face down in drunken stupor and suicidal in a sleazy motel!"

He risked a look into the room and saw she was standing, shoulders tight with the raw emotion that had filled her words.

"You did the same thing back then when you made your deal. Acted without any thought of the consequences. He barely made it back from that and there you are, laying in a bed telling him it's over, that you've given up. How dare you! If you weren't already injured I'd slap you. I will find this ritual Dean and he will try to perform it, you know that." She took a few steps closer to the bed and somehow gave the impression of looming over Dean, "Now are you going to show up and help him get you out of this mess you created or are you going to roll over and play dead for Lucifer?"

Some of Dean's old rebellious nature hardened his jaw but he didn't offer any answers.

"Think about it," she ordered before turning and storming out of the room past where he sat in the hallway. "What the hell is it with you men?" She muttered as she passed, "Hardheaded, illogical, death seeking cowards. It's so much easier to jump into the fire and leave everyone else to suffer isn't it?"

He watched her until she was out of sight, stood up and looked back at Dean. Their eyes met but they didn't speak. Dean gave him nothing, no indication that Felicity's words had any impact. _Well if that didn't piss him off, I don't know what will. _As he turned to go down the hall and finish helping Felicity set up the computers Dean's voice came from behind.

"Sam, I'm sorry."

He didn't turn back around, "Are you?" _What does he expect me to say to that? I forgive you? _Moments later he was carrying another load of tech gear into the house where he and Felicity set up the system with minimal words and a maximum amount of repressed frustration.


	13. Are Doomed to Repeat It

It took about an hour to get all four monitors, two hard drives plus the computer they set up in the master bedroom for Dean up and running to Felicity's standards. Once that was done Sam sat down and stared at the rapidly scrolling screens as the search algorithms she'd designed wormed their way through the endless virtual storehouses of the internet until the thought hit that he should call Cas since they were starting to get a rather decent collection of Sumerian documents.

"Sam?" Cas said after the second ring.

"Hi. You may want to start heading this way. Felicity's already found quite a few things that seem to mention the Mark. All ancient, most in Sumerian and about half of them are partial translations. We could use you."

"Of course, how's Dean?"

"Calm, for now."

"That's good. Text me the address. I am already in the state of Washington so should be able to be there within a few hours. I started heading to Starling when you told me you were helping Oliver."

"Sure thing. See you soon." They hung up and Sam looked over the monitor at Felicity, "What's the address here?"

She shot him a confused look, "Why does he need the address? Can't he just teleport?"

"Oh, yeah, not anymore. No angel can. They lost their wings."

That seemed to shock her more than anything else that had happened since they'd shown up. "What? How?"

"It's complicated," he sighed and gave her the short version.

"Um...wow."

"Yeah, putting it mildly. The address?"

"Oh sure," she recited the address and he returned to cataloging the information her searches pulled up while she kept trying to hack the Vatican.

A few hours later she threw her arms up in disgust, "Seriously, what does the Vatican have that's so important! I get through one or two layers then another one pops up."

"Are you kidding?" he replied as he stood up and stretched, "The Church has so many secrets. Remember they pretty much ran the world for quite a few centuries and then there's all the apocryphal testaments that they don't want their followers to read; holy relics, items of power. Entire countries rose and fell based upon Rome's decree back in the day, not to mention what people and things who have less than good intentions could do if they got their hands on the type of power that the Vatican vaults hold." He heard the door bell then the front door opening and tensed, "Were we expecting company?"

"You really think Oliver and Dig would pass up the chance the chance to have those pot pies again?"

"This isn't the best time for all of that," he stated.

"We know," Oliver said from the doorway that led into the media room. "That's why we're cooking."

Thea scooted in between Oliver and the wall and walked up to him, "I brought the drinks," she said with a relaxed smile.

"Thea?" He shot a concerned look at Oliver who simply shrugged.

"I wanted to come up and thank you guys," she continued, "For getting Oli back and making him finally open up. I won't stay long, he said that things are bit uncertain right now. I get it. I just..well."

"You're welcome. Dean's in the master bedroom, he could use some good news."

"Sure thing." She smiled again, gave him a brief hug then her and Oliver headed down the hall.

"Hey, anyone want to help the two sidekicks out here?" Dig's voice echoed through the house. "I mean, I know I'm the driver slash bodyguard and Roy's the pretty boy backup but this recipe is pretty complicated."

In spite of everything that had happened along with the hints of things he'd been seeing as the various documents got translated bit by bit he couldn't stop the badly needed, deep down laugh that came pouring out of his mouth, and he wasn't alone.

Felicity almost fell out of her chair as she wrapped her arms around her waist and doubled over laughing."Ow, that hurts, oh God that was funny." She managed to get out as she gasped for air.

He was still laughing too hard to reply, or even stand up.

He finally started getting a handle on his laughter when Oliver replied, "Pretty boy backup? Please. I have much better abs than Roy does, and a stronger jawline too"

"Yeah, I'd have to agree," Dean's muffled voice joined in, "Although I think Roy's eyes are prettier."

"Stop it," Felicity yelled back in between trying to catch her breath, "You're killing us."

Roy appeared in the hallway, looking mildly offended, "What exactly did I do to deserve this?"

Thea and Oliver popped out of the master bedroom which was a few doors down. Thea cocked her hip to the side and put on an endearingly flirtatious look, "Don't let it get to you, Oli's just jealous of your supermodel good looks. After all the whole scruffy faced, green leather look was so last season."

"Thanks so much Speedy," Oliver grumbled, "Give it a break guys, the computers can run themselves."

As much as he knew he could use the time away from the screens he also didn't want to miss anything, "You go ahead Felicity, I'll catch up later."

"You sure?" She asked.

"Yeah."

"All right." She left the room and he focused back on the most recent document. A message from Dean popped up on his screen in the chatroom Felicity had set up for the three of them.

"Go get food, have fun. I've got this part."

"This one's almost done." He typed back.

"Get up and get into that kitchen. I can't move much anyway. It'll keep me occupied. Move Sam and don't ask if I'm sure."

"Don't tell me how to live my life!" For some reason the little bit of laughter Dig had managed to pull out of him brought out his goofy side, such as it was.

"Pretend I just smacked you on the back of the head. Scram."

"I'll bring you food later."

"Fine. Let me get back to work."

He chuckled and joined the rest in the kitchen. Thea left fairly early and after her departure the conversation became more subdued. He purposely avoided going back and looking at the screen by telling himself he was waiting for Cas to get there and verify the translations. In all honesty he did it because he knew that this would likely be the last chance he'd have to get any downtime in once they found the ritual, and he needed the break. _The calm before the storm, I need this so I can focus later. I can't afford to miss anything once we get started. _

Cas showed up about an hour before the food was done, he walked in without knocking and made everyone jump when he announced his presence, "I'm here. Where are the documents?"

"Hi Cas," Sam replied, "I'll show you. You want to check in on Dean first?" He'd checked on his brother about a half an hour before Cas's arrival and had found Dean totally engrossed in what was on his screen.

"No, getting information is more important right now. Hello Felicity, Oliver."

"Castiel, nice to see you again," Oliver replied and Felicity gave the angel a brief smile.

Roy's eyes widened, "Castiel? The angel you mentioned, right?"

"Yes."

"You're not exactly what I pictured."

"Yes, I get that quite often. Sam?"

Cas was obviously not in the mood for small talk. "Follow me."

He led Cas to the media room, "Did Oliver once run a small theater out of here?" Cas asked, taking note of the the size of the room, the movie style seating and massive screen.

"No, this was just his family's vacation home," he explained.

"You need a separate home to vacation in?"

Sam shrugged, "Some people do I guess. Here's everything we've found so far." The fact that Cas's face managed to somehow become even more serious wasn't very encouraging.

"I'm impressed, her translation program is rather accurate."

The nerves and coppery tasting fear he'd managed to hold at bay for a few hours instantly reasserted themselves, "So the thing about Lucifer using the Mark to destroy brothers..."

"Is correct. Pretty much everything here is. There are some inconsistencies in grammar but nothing that changes the meaning of the words. Here, look. This one hints at the ritual itself."

"Hold on," he pulled the keyboard closer to him and typed into the chat. "Cas is here, Felicity's program is pretty much dead on with translating."

"Great..." Dean typed back.

"He found one that talks about the ritual, I'll share the screen." Sam toggled the controls to share his view with Dean and took a closer look at the document in front of him.

"And the Lost One must give himself over to the evil, and his kin must be willing to be sacrificed for the Lost One's choice to hold power over the Taint. For only when their bond is at it's strongest while being at it's weakest with the Taint show itself to them."

The rest of the page was still being translated, but for some reason the next paragraph broke off into a rather involved history of a local village.

"Why did it do that?" Dean asked, "Break off in the middle."

"To hide the knowledge," Cas typed, "Remember all the purges of witches and knowledge humans have done over time? This was one way that practitioners tried to save their rituals, by hiding them in dozens, if not hundreds of documents. Only a select few knew where the entire ritual was hidden."

"So we could spend days going through this and still miss a part?" The immensity of the task in front of them staggered him. It'd only been a few hours and already Felicity's searches had amassed a rather large list of documents.

"Yes," Cas confirmed. "However, now that I know what we're looking for I think I can help Felicity refine this search."

"I'll go get her," He offered. _This goes right along with what Nyssa said, that Dean would have to be so close to the edge of losing it that there's only two options here. We either both make it through or both end up dead. Well, hopefully. If Cas can't stop him after he turns I'm not sure who could. This just keeps getting worse. "_Hey Felicity?" He said as he re-entered the common area/kitchen. "Cas needs you."

"Okay," she replied, then took one look at his face and hurried down the hall.

"Sam?" Oliver asked, concern on his face as Sam sunk onto the couch, "What did you find out?"

"Just let me think.." He replied.

"Sure thing," Oliver said and he, Dig and Roy all got up and moved to the other side of the room to give him some space.

He heard a soft squeak of a tire behind him, "Sam, we need to talk." He looked over his shoulder and saw Dean in the wheelchair a few feet behind him. "Let's hit the deck outside."

"All right, want me to help?"

"I got myself out here, I can get myself to the deck," Dean grumbled, "Just open the door."

They maneuvered outside and stared at the full moon's soft light bouncing off the inky black lake for a few moments. A wolf howled in the distance and Sam remembered the vision he'd had when Oliver was hunting him to push him past his out of control emotions. His whole family had been there to help him, even if they were in spirit form. They'd pulled him back from the edge and yet here they were again, staring into the abyss.

"It's chillier out here than I expected," Dean mused, "Feels good though. Take a seat Sammy."

_He hasn't called me that in a few months. I'll take that as a good sign, humor myself if nothing else. _He settled into a chair and waited. Dean's face was oddly lit by the lights coming from inside the house and the moon, shadowing his eyes at first. When Dean turned his head to face him directly the light hit his eyes from the side and the way the light hit them made him think of how shifter's and vamp's eyes looked on camera for some reason. Then someone inside stepped in front of a light source and plunged Dean's eyes into darkness sending a cold chill down his spine.

"Cain's not dead, well not completely."

"I'm sorry, what?"


	14. Consequences

Dean moved the wheelchair closer to the deck railing, locked the wheels, rested his good arm on top of the rails and dropped his head onto it "Before you ask, I didn't say anything because I didn't really know until I started reading the translations."

"I..damn it Dean!" He looked out across the lake and tried to find some way to use the still, quiet night to calm down but found he couldn't stay still. All the things he wanted to say but knew he shouldn't yet drove him to start pacing; the sound of his boots on the wood echoed across the deck. "Keep talking."

"When I fought Cain, I stabbed him with the Blade, I did Sam I swear. He dropped and I should have known when lights didn't shoot from his body and there was a distinct lack of hurricane force wind like when I took out Abaddon that something wasn't right. I just...I wanted it to be over. He hit the floor, and something in me changed, the Mark glowed and I felt this rush of power, of something. I thought it was just the Mark reacting to Cain's presence, then a few days later it started."

"What did?"

Dean's reply was so soft he barely heard it, "The other voice, the feelings. The hate."

He stopped pacing and felt his nails digging into his palms from the force he was using to clench his fists. "You were hearing voices and you didn't think that was important to mention?" _If these beams in front of me weren't the size of tree trunks I'd punch them, I really would. _

"Just let me get through this without the commentary Sam, please." It wasn't the words that throttled down his frustration, it was the tone. He looked away from the imposing outer wall of Oliver's house and saw Dean wiping his eyes along his arm looking absolutely defeated and lost.

"Sorry," he sat back down but couldn't quite bring himself to offer a comforting gesture, like he would have years ago.

"It, Cain, whatever, it came and went. It wasn't all the time but little by little I noticed things. The whole urge to beat the living crap out of people I'd sort of gotten used to but this was different. Things you would do would start to irritate me, I'd write it off as stress, needing to get back on the road, whatever. I'd start having dreams of picking fights with you but I figured it was just a new variation on an old dream. When we go on hunts I'd start finding myself wanting to get away from you, get out of the room, shoot holes in all your theories. I'd have passing thoughts that you hated me, I'd dismiss it, it be worse the next time. It didn't happen all at once Sam, you have to believe me. It's not like I woke up one morning hating you. It just kept building."

"Then I shot you..."

Dean's head moved in a slow nod, "Yeah, when I woke up after surgery and you were standing over me...well. Let's just say it's a good thing I was still drugged up. Even now, knowing what's it's trying to do I can't stand to look at you, hear your voice. I'm barely keeping it together sitting here talking to you. I don't think Cain is dead, I mean it's not like he and I are having extended conversations but what he told me Sam, all of it...I denied it, said it wouldn't happen but now. Now I think it could. Maybe it's not Cain exactly maybe it's just the curse growing stronger because I stabbed him with the First Blade, maybe that just transfers his essence from one body to the next. I don't know."

"Dean? What did he say? You never told me he said anything."

He lifted his head off his arm just enough so that Sam could see his face and when he did his first impulse was to get as far away from Dean as possible. "He said I'd kill Crowley, Cas then you. That I was living his life in reverse, that he and I had the same type of reckless courage which is why he gave me the Mark. When I took it on he told me that we were a lot alike, I'm starting to see why." He clenched his jaw, closed his eyes and looked away again. "Damn it."

The last few months started to shift in Sam's mind, far from not fighting Dean had been struggling every minute of it, struggling against doing the one thing he'd never thought he be able to do. Kill his brother. A lifetime of protecting him was being turned against Dean, inch by inch, minute by minute and what they'd found out in the last few days instead of easing that burden had merely confirmed Dean's worst fears. The boiling cauldron of frustration he'd been feeling dissipated, silenced by his own memories of what the demon blood did to him, those memories and what he knew Dean was fighting against added new layers to the deep well of respect he'd always had for him. There was no hesitation when he reached out and placed his hand on Dean's back. He felt Dean tense when he touched him so he dropped his hand away, realizing that the contact was only making Dean's fight harder and he hoped the words would be enough, "How can I help?"

"You can't do anything more than you're already doing. Listen, you asked me for one last fight." He took a deep breath and managed to make eye contact again, but Sam could see how hard it was, "I will not roll over and play dead for Lucifer or anyone else. We either fix this or end me." Then, as if putting his hand in a raging fire he reached out and latched onto Sam's shoulder. He managed to keep it there for a few seconds before Sam saw the hate grow in his eyes. "One more fight Sam, that's all I have left. Let's make it count." His lips twisted into a snarl laced grimace as he removed his hand, unlocked the wheels on the chair and spun away from him. "Get back inside. Leave the door open. I need a few minutes."

"Sure, all right." As much as he didn't want to leave him alone he knew that being as far away at that moment was the only way he could help him. He paused before he was completely inside again, "I'll have someone bring you dinner."

"Thanks."

He didn't make it more than three steps before he turned back around and took a long look at Dean. He was sitting in profile to the window, he saw the slight hunch forward in Dean's shoulders, the stress lines on his face, the circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. He was staring out into the moon lit blackness beyond the pools of light from the house that settled onto the deck, eyes unfocused as he concentrated on the battleground in his mind and heart. As he watched, his shoulders inched back to how he usually carried them, he sat up straighter and his eyes came back into focus while his head turned back towards the house. Their eyes met and Dean gave him a slight nod which he returned before looking back towards the interior of the house. Dig and Oliver were sitting across on a couch across the room facing the glass door and looked up at him, a myriad of questions in their eyes which he had no answers for.

"When dinner's done can one of you guys take Dean some?"

"Sure," Oliver said.

"Thanks, I need to talk to Cas. Be back in a few." He made it back to the media room and sat next to Cas. "We need to talk.."

"Dean's realized that Cain's essence is trying to take him over and he's almost entirely consumed by hate for you." Cas stated in a slightly preoccupied voice as his eyes rapidly jumped from screen to screen.

"Or you could just tell me everything I just found out, that works too. I take it it's translated more things."

"Yes and no, I'm reading ahead of the program."

"And?" Cas didn't answer, "Cas!"

"Oh, sorry." Cas apologized as he turned away from the screens, "It's fascinating reading, albeit it highly disturbing."

"What is?"

"Well this League of Assassins dates back thousands of years, most of the references regarding the Mark of Cain are from documents that discuss them as well. It seems the League has or perhaps had a rather mystical arm that tracked Cain far more thoroughly then we did. They originally saw him as sort of a patron demon so to speak, being the Father of Murder. They used to offer pairs of brothers to him once a generation as a sacrifice."

"What? Nyssa made it sound like they had fought against the people that bore the Mark."

"They did, but that was much later," Cas said as he leaned farther back in his chair and focused his eyes on the wall behind Sam. "There was some sort of upheaval within the League, the details of which are scarce, but they turned away from the mystical path and became much more grounded in the physical world. The ritual she spoke of was used to try to save some of the last pairs of brothers the mystics offered up. It was then used a few more times after that when the League came across people who weren't fully within the Mark's grasp."

"Does it work?" He wasn't all that interested in the history of the League and wanted to push the angel to get to the point.

Cas's blue eyes moved away from the wall back to him, and he knew he wouldn't like the answer Cas had for him.

"In a small percentage of the cases, from what I can tell, yes."

"And when it doesn't?"

"Both brothers ended up dead. The Lost One killed his brother and the League managed to kill the Lost One, beheading him usually. Then they'd salt and burn the corpse after performing a rather extensive purification ritual to make sure he wouldn't return. The League usually lost several members to the Lost One before killing him."

_Well, can't say I'm surprised, Nyssa hinted at that, so did what we found earlier. Can we do this? He said he only has one fight left in him, it sounds like it's a fair chance that may be all that's left in me as well. Guess we better make sure it's a good one then. _

"Have you pieced the ritual together yet?"

Cas shook his head, "Not entirely. There are some pieces that are similar enough to other rituals that we can fill in some blanks. On the positive side it won't take the full week to perform."

"A week? What the hell kind of ritual requires that?"

A slight grin manifested on Cas's face, "They spent several days praying for divine guidance and protection."

He felt a small grin break out on his face as well, "Yeah, think we already have that covered."

Cas's grin faded almost immediately though, "She was not wrong about it requiring pain and blood though. Here, look." The angel moved aside and pointed at the middle screen, there was a document on it, not scrolling websites. "I've been piecing it together.

If he thought things were bad before, he'd been wrong. "We have to call forth the darkness? We're basically summoning what's left of Cain to take over Dean? Hell no!"

"It all boils down to choice Sam, it always has and always will," Cas sighed.

His fist hit the top of the desk, "How many damn times are we going to have to make the same choice?"

"I don't know Sam, I don't."


	15. Preparations

Cas said nothing as he tried to force his mind back to the task at hand and what they needed to do. _Save the anger, you'll need it later. _He pulled his eyes away from the screen and for some reason the memory of watching Felicity guide Dig and Oliver through the city when he was here all those years ago came back to him. _She wasn't wrong. God, talk about coming full circle. This time it's different though, we have some way to stop this, not like with his deal. I am not going to lose him again, not going to happen. Next step, what's the next step. "_How many people do we need for this? I saw some sort of reference to that between all the gory details."

"Five."

"You, Dig, Oliver, Felicity and Roy. That covers it if they are willing to help."

"Sam, they're not prepared for something like this."

"We're short on options and time," he pointed out. "Name five other people who we could remotely trust to do this."

"You know I can't."

"My point exactly. Go see if Dean's back in his room, he needs to see this and I want to run the idea of having them help us by him."

"All right," Cas replied, then left the room.

He turned back to the ritual and shoved his emotions as far down as he could. He skimmed over the chant that the observers were supposed to recite and searched out the core of the ritual.

"The Lost One shall be stripped of his humanity, for only when he stares into the darkness of the Taint will he be able to extinguish it. The Sacrifice's blood must be mixed with the blood of the Lost One when the Taint is at it peak. They must succumb to the Taint together, for it feeds on the strength of their wills."

_That makes no sense. If we succumb to it how do we fight it? Is he supposed to give me the Mark too? No, that can't be right. _He read that passage and several others that seemed pertinent over and over till a blinking on the screen distracted him.

"Send it to me." Dean typed.

He saved the page and attached the file to the chat window. "You're not going to like it,' he typed back.

"Wasn't expecting to."

He waited for some response from Dean after he read it, about five minutes later letters started popping up. "Get Felicity back to hacking the Vatican as soon as you can and have Cas there right next to her," appeared in the chat window. "I don't care who you get to help but I'm sure Oliver and crew won't mind. Once we put this together Cas can heal me so we can get this done."

"Got it."

"And stay as far away from me as can until then."

"I know."

Cas walked back into the room as he hit send on the last message, the angel's face finally shifting into the more human, mobile version of itself Sam had gotten used to over the last few years. "He's worse than I thought and your guess about the warding was accurate. Somehow either the Mark or Cain's essence is indeed changing him on a structural level and if we take more than a few more days to set this ritual up I won't need to heal him. His wounds are close to halfway repaired already, which I didn't inform him of but I am sure he knows."

He ran a hand over his face, "Nyssa hinted at that too. Good to know, well not really. You didn't happen to.."

"It's in my car, he doesn't know that either. I can only hope the medication you are giving him is keeping him from sensing it's presence."

"Hey guys?" Roy said as he tapped on the door frame. "Food's done. I dropped some off for Dean already."

_Poor kid, he's so out of his depth and he knows it. He's not backing down though. _"Thanks Roy, be there in a minute."

"Sure thing."

"He's Oliver's other helper?" Cas asked.

"Yeah, he's a good guy."

"Oliver made a good decision then, he reminds me of you. Loyal, brave and intelligent."

"Makes sense, Oliver's a helluva a lot like Dean. I'm going to get some food, care to join?"

Cas returned to his prior seat in front of the monitors, "No, I'll keep working. It does smell delicious, but would probably taste absolutely horrifying if I tried to have any."

"Still miss pb and j huh?"

"Yes," he replied with a bitter sigh. "Go eat Sam."

He joined Team Arrow +1 as he thought of the group now, he couldn't quite include Roy into Team Arrow just yet. None of them asked questions while they ate, which he was immensely grateful for but that made for a rather silent meal. "You guys did good," he complimented them once he finished, "It was delicious. Thanks for putting in the work."

"We needed to get out of the city for a few hours anyway," Oliver responded. "Any luck? Or do you not want to talk about it?"

He leaned back and gazed around the room, trying to find the words. Last time they'd been here there wasn't the thin layer of dust across the oak tables and shelves, the reclaimed wood walls sparkled a bit more and there had been twice the amount of leather and suede furniture. The house was still spectacular, a testament to the architect who'd managed to make something two or three families could easily live in seem homey and cozy but it felt abandoned, like it was waiting for someone to claim it again. Although the Bunker would never be truly cozy something about how the Lake house looked now brought back the first time he and Dean walked down the stairs and finally found a place they could call home. "Actually I, or rather we, need your help. All of you."

Dig didn't even miss a beat, "You've got it, you know that."

"Thanks but I'd rather you know what you're signing up for before you agree. Come on, I'll show you." He helped them clean the table off and they settled into some chairs in the media room where Cas had turned one of the monitors around.

Felicity shook her head, "Here this will be easier," she took the keyboard from Cas, pulled a remote out of the drawer and turned on the big screen TV, then typed in a few commands and instantly the document dominated the room. "There, now we don't have to all stand around a monitor." They all relocated to the the theatre style seats and read it as Cas slowly scrolled the image down to the end of what he'd managed to compile.

"What is this?" Roy asked, "It sounds like something from a role playing game or Harry Potter movie."

"It's the ritual isn't it?" Felicity asked, "Castiel put it together?"

"Yes, in part," Cas replied, "Your program helped immensely as well. Thank you. It's not complete but it's a start. I think you need to resume your attempts to illegally access the Vatican."

"Ritual?" Roy continued, "For what?"

"The short version," Oliver stated, "Saving Dean, who Dig, I and Felicity owe big time. We can fill you in later. We would have earlier but we weren't sure how much of it Sam wanted you to know. Looks like you need to know all of it now if he needs you in on this.

"Look, I know you guys believe in demons and ghosts, but I don't." Roy said, "I mean Castiel is supposed to be an angel but look at him."

"Yes, look at me Roy."

He already knew by the tone of Cas's voice that his eyes would be glowing.

"What the!" Roy stammered.

"Years ago I would have had wings as well Roy Harper but those have been stripped from me. However if you'd like more proof of what I am.." Cas raised his hand and Roy rose up a foot or two out of his seat, floated there and with another flick of Cas's hand he flew a foot or two away from the chairs and then rather suddenly dropped to the ground. "Sorry for the abruptness but I've found that usually convinces people rather rapidly."

"I can see why," Dig said while offering a hand to Roy.

"Uh, ok...you're an angel. Got it." Roy said a bit fearfully as he took Dig's hand, stood up and sat back in his chair.

"Well now that that's cleared up," Sam continued, "Let me explain what's truly going on." With that he launched into the unabridged version of the last two years, in as monotone and unemotional voice he could manage. He didn't want to play on their sympathies, he needed them to fully understand just what they could see and how it could affect them. Once he finished he took stock of their reactions. _Roy's lost but trying to put it all together, Felicity somehow seems even more determined than she already was, Dig, well looks like Dig..but Oliver, oh Thea. Damn, didn't even dawn on me how this would hit him. He's in all right. If you put him and Dean together right now just their stares would scare everyone within a five block radius away. _

"What do you need us to do?" Oliver asked.

"That chant, from what I can tell and Cas correct me if I'm wrong but that's what pulls the darkness out."

"In part, it's also supposed to serve as some sort of barrier to keep the Lost One inside that ward if the ritual fails."

"So, basically a cage until someone takes care of the Lost One," Dig verified.

"Yes." Cas walked in front of the screen and stared at and through all of them as only he can, "You, all of you, cannot waiver in this. You cannot let your feelings for Dean or Sam break your concentration or will to keep that barrier strong. Chanting such as this is usually done by people who have spent years training for just these kinds of things. They have an incredible ability to focus their energy, their minds, their souls on the task at hand and have incredible endurance. In a perfect world we would find monks or mystics to do this but this is hardly a perfect world. Oliver and John are probably the closest to understanding what this entails. Not to dismiss you Felicity and how you can spend hours focused on a task on your computers but this is something that is internal, not external. If the ritual fails and Dean is lost to us we must do what is necessary or suffer the consequences."

Dig's face had grown increasingly solemn as Cas spoke, "If we pull this Cain or whoever into Dean and lose Dean do we have the tools to stop him? I'm guessing that he won't be human anymore."

"I do," Cas answered, his face blank and voice empty, "You will leave that to me, I am more than capable of keeping the barrier up while stopping him."

Team Arrow +1 exchanged looks, the only one who looked uncertain was Roy. "Roy if you don't want in, we understand," Oliver offered.

_I wouldn't blame him but I need him, it always comes down to that I guess.  
_

Roy looked away from Oliver and locked eyes with him, "You've been dealing with things like this all your life?"

"Yeah."

"Felicity said you've saved the world, stopped the Apocalypse. That Dean chose to go to Hell to save your life."

"Yes, he did."

Roy cast a quick glance at Oliver then back at Sam,"All right then, looks like he needs a hand this time around. I'm in."

_Yeah, Oliver made the perfect choice with Roy. _"Thanks Roy."

The next few days were spent teaching Oliver, Dig, Felicity and Roy ancient Sumerian in between Felicity finally hacking into the Vatican, Oliver and Dig gathering the supplies they needed and he and Roy cleaning out the basement where they'd be holding the ritual while Cas split his time between helping Felicity and keeping an eye on Dean.

He and Roy were doing the final sweep of the rather large basement and about halfway through drawing the various sigils and signs that were required when Cas joined them. "We've got as much of it as we can find. Once I got the sense of it I was able to fill in the blanks. It's similar to other demon summoning rituals of the time. When will you be done here?"

"A few hours," he replied. "How's Dean?" He hadn't seen Dean since the conversation on the deck, they had made very sure to not cross paths over the last few days. They'd sent a few messages back and forth on the computer but that was the extent of their interaction. He'd forced himself to stay as busy as possible to not dwell on the rather large gap in his life.

"Same as before other than mostly healed. I don't think it's gotten worse but it's hard to tell. Shall we plan this for tonight then? I can finish healing him after I help him prepare for this."

"May as well. Keep the Blade out of the house until the last possible minute, I don't want him to latch onto that."

"I managed to find a way to mute the sense of it's presence from him," Cas stated as he stepped closer. "Sam.."

He turned away from the beginnings of whatever comforting words Cas was getting ready to offer, "Not now Cas. I've got too much on my mind."

"Of course. Four hours then?"

"Should be plenty of time."

Cas grasped his shoulder briefly then left.

Roy set down the paint brush he'd been using to draw archaic symbols. He had originally planned to use chalk like always but Oliver told him to make whatever it was permanent, they could always paint over it later. Oliver stated he didn't want to risk a line getting smudged at the wrong time. "I don't know how you do it Sam," Roy said.

"Do what?" They hadn't talked much although they'd spent a large amount of time together.

"This, whatever this is. Whatever it was that got you in this spot. I watch Oliver and see how he tries to make the right choices, save people, but it keeps backfiring. They're times lately, I just don't think he knows what he's supposed to be doing and why anymore. I know it's not black and white but when things or people just twist everything you care about against you, how do you know what choice to make?"

"And what makes you think I have a decent answer to that question?"

"I don't know, you seem more deliberate, like you try to see a few moves ahead instead of what's right in front of you."

"Well I try to." He set his own brush down and stretched out his cramping fingers, "This is going to sound odd since what you're helping me with is intensely personal but the best way to make the right choice is to take the emotion out of the fight. The job, whether it's saving people from monsters or muggers should be about the people you're saving, not about saving yourself. When you lose sight of what that is when you start leaping before you look, like Dean and Oliver tend to do. I can't really blame them for being the way they are but they need people like us, like Felicity and Dig to keep them on an even keel. Even when you think they're being complete idiots and ignoring everything you say, you just have to stick it out. It's when Dean and I have split up or been split up that we both made stupid choices. Oliver probably won't ever say it, or if he does it will take years, but there's a reason he chose to train you, to take you under his wing. He sees something in you. It's up to you to decide if you can see past his issues and stick it out. It sure as hell won't be easy, that I can promise you."

"But is it worth it? Sticking it out? I mean, a few hours from now you're going to be down here, facing off against something that's not even your brother anymore. Not that I'm saying you should bail on him, but the path you guys took to get here, was it worth it?"

He picked his brush back up and started to paint again, "I still remember one of the first people we saved, how it felt to see their relief. I can tell you exactly how the little girl we stopped a ghost from drowning looked the last time we saw her, she was alive because of us. Whenever we get in places like this Roy, when it seems like no matter what we do we're screwed I think back to those things, things that Dean and I did together. Is it worth it? Hell yeah. Do I wish we'd made better choices sometimes? Sure but would I go back and stop hunting, finish college. No, because at the end of the day this is who I am."

Roy silently watched him for a few moments, then picked up his own brush and finished the sigil he'd been working on.


	16. Blood, Sweat and Pain

It took he and Roy a little over two hours to finish decorating the walls, they cleaned up the paint and brushes and he went in search of Cas who he ended up finding sitting next to Dean on the deck. They weren't speaking, just looking out into the woods but Dean wasn't in the wheelchair anymore. The sling was gone and his legs were crossed, when he saw that he stopped just before he knocked on the door to let Cas know they were done. A jolt of fear shot through him, _I'm not going to make it through this, I've seen the damage he can do when the Mark takes control. He won't stop until I'm dead. I have to trust him, have to. That's the only way I can help him. _He tapped on the door, both of them twisted around to look at him and he was struck by how similar they looked. Blank faces, tight jaws and miles and miles of unsaid things in their eyes. Dean's eyes narrowed ever so slightly when he realized who it was tapping on the door but he didn't look away.

Cas stood up and opened the door. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"I gave Oliver the images and where they needed to be placed on you, Dig will take care of Dean and I'll be standing by just in case. Your hand?"

"Arm's better," he stated as he pushed up his sleeve, "We've sliced up our hands so much the palms are nothing but scars."

"Let's do this out of his sight," Cas pointed out.

He shifted his gaze to Dean who'd looked away by this point although his left hand was placed tightly over the Mark.

"Right." He and Cas walked to the formal living room, which had been stripped bare of all it's furniture and Cas pulled a bowl and a knife out of his pocket. Cas took hold of his arm, sliced deep into the flesh and collected a decent quantity of blood into the bowl, then healed the cut.

"Stay here, I'll get his, mix them, purify it and give you half for Oliver to use."

It didn't take Cas long to return with the bowl. "Here, send Oliver or Roy to let me know when he is done. Felicity is printing out the ritual."

"Got it." He took the bowl and joined Oliver and Roy in the bedroom he'd been using. "Here, Cas prepped it already."

Both of their faces were solemn, "Right. Let's get this done then," Oliver said.

He pulled off his shirt and sat on a chair across from Oliver while Roy held the paper that Cas had written the designs that they had to draw on his chest. Oliver started to sketch the designs and after the first one was done Roy frowned. "No, that's not right. Here, let me do it, I used to do graphic design. We don't want to screw this up."

Oliver seemed a bit surprised at Roy's rather authoritative tone but switched places with him. Roy didn't even flinch at dipping his finger in a bowl of blood then sketching ancient Sumerian runes onto someone's chest.

"Huh, you'd fit right in," Sam said.

"It's not like I haven't seen blood before," Roy pointed out, "Don't move, this one's tricky."

He stayed as motionless as he could while Roy rather meticulously copied the designs. About fifteen minutes later Roy leaned back and double checked his work.

"Damn Roy," Oliver complimented him, "They're perfect. I would have screwed that all up."

"Do you want to check them?" Roy asked.

"Not really, I trust you." _That and I'm not all that keen about seeing our blood all over my chest. _"Roy, tell Cas we're good to go. I think he wants to get Dean down there first."

Roy nodded and left leaving he and Oliver alone. "I'd wish you luck but I have a feeling you're going to need a lot more than that," Oliver said, "But for what it's worth, good luck."

"Thanks." He heard Roy's footsteps from behind and stood up.

"Cas says they're good to go too and to head down now."

He turned to go and caught the look on Roy's face which was a mix of immense respect, disbelief and hope.

"Here," Roy added as he handed him an angel blade. "Cas said he'll give Dean his when you get down there."

The blade felt oddly warm in his hand and an unexpected vibration shot up his arm. _Well, we know that Roy got the symbols right. _He led them down to the basement; Felicity, Dig and Cas were already in their places, each at one point of the five pointed star they had painted on the floor. They were dressed all in black, just as Oliver and Roy were. Cas had put his beige coat aside and borrowed one of Oliver's black button down shirts for the ritual. Foreign symbols painted in black, red and gold, covered the walls, ten black candles encircled the star and the air was already heavy with incense. _God, this looks like the places we usually save people from, especially with the candles and the altar in the corner. It already feels like somewhere or something other than Oliver's basement and we haven't even started the ritual yet. Guess Cas and Felicity managed to pull off the impossible. Now if Dean and I can as well, all their work won't be for nothing. Dean.. _

He finally looked at Dean, a_nd he looks like the monsters we usually kill. This is so wrong, all of it, but what the hell else can I do? _The candlelight reflected off the bloody symbols on his brother's chest as he slowly paced back and forth at one end of the fifteen by fifteen foot star they had painted. _A damned caged tiger, that's what he looks like. He's even barefoot. _

Dean reached the end of his route, turned, looked at him and bared his teeth in a sinister looking grin. "Bout time you showed up."

He felt a cold sweat break out on his face but he tightened his grip on the angel blade, _No_,_ not yet, not yet. I'm not ready. _

_"_Sam." Cas's voice was overlaid with more than a hint of angelic authority, "It's time. Enter the circle."

He felt an odd compulsion to do exactly what Cas said, even though a rather large part of him wanted to run the other way, and found himself standing inside the circle without even being aware that he'd moved.

Cas stepped forward, his eyes aglow and casting an eerie light across the darkened room. "Dean. Take your weapon." In Cas's hand was the rather large knife he'd taken off of Cain.

Dean paced forward, "You have it on you," he drawled in an cold, empty voice. "I can smell it. I can take it from you, you know."

"You are neither a demon nor Cain," Cas calmly stated, "I can destroy you before your hand touches it if need be."

Dean chuckled as he took Cain's blade from Cas, "For now, give me a few minutes, then we'll see. So Sam, ready to die?"

_He's this bad already? _

Cas returned to his spot and five voices started chanting in perfect unison, "Are you, you selfish bastard?" _Where'd that come from?_

Dean's response was to lunge forward with a growl, arm angling down towards his chest in an attempt to kill him in one hit. _Holy shit! _He managed to step back and block at the last second. "This is all your damn fault you know!" He snarled into Dean's face as their blades rebounded off each other.

"Sure, blame me, again. I should have left you for dead all those years ago," Dean snarled as he changed his aim and came within a hair's breadth of slicing through his ribs. The only thing that saved Sam was his slightly longer reach and a quick hop back.

The pace of the chanting picked up and his fear seemed to be morphing into anger as it did. _Why__ the hell am I trying to save him anyway? He'll just fuck things up again. What? _He took advantage of a momentary weakness in Dean's guard and thrust the blade towards his stomach but Dean spun and took a quick backhanded swipe at his throat which he ducked and managed to slice into Dean's leg. Dean didn't even react to the wound.

"You've done nothing but destroy my damn life Sam."

The hilt of Dean's blade came rocketing towards his face and connected with tremendous force, staggering him as the taste of blood erupted into his mouth which was almost instantly followed by a torrent of rage. "I destroyed your life!" He howled as he lunged forward, blade fully extended. Dean's left arm sliced down, blocking his hit but not before a scarlet line of blood appeared directly under his ribs. "You're the reason I left Jessica alone, you're the reason Kevin's dead, you're the reason both damn tablets are gone. You never listen to me or anyone else! Ever!"

They lunged at each other again, equal in speed and strength, sparks flew from their blades as they connected.

_Why am I so damn angry? Is this part.. _Dean's attempt to trip him and shove him to the ground interrupted his thought. He managed to keep his balance by throwing an awkward punch at Dean, forcing him back.

"Why should I listen to you?" Dean asked as he backed off and circled, blade out, looking for an opening. "Whiny ass college brat. Always arguing, never admitting someone might have a better idea than you, that someone may know more than you about something. Sometimes you just have to go with your gut!" He emphasized his point by making a quick thrust towards Sam's stomach.

He felt the bite of the blade but it didn't matter because he saw an opening, Dean had stepped too close and instantly he switched his grip on the angel blade and drove it up towards Dean's armpit. The way the blade was designed he could easily drive it through Dean's ribs straight into his heart. _No! This isn't right! I...I don't hate him, buy yourself time to figure this out._ He stopped his hand from plunging the blade into Dean, hooked his foot around Dean's and shoved him backwards while yanking his foot out from underneath him. Dean landed hard but immediately rolled away but not before Sam landed a hard kick into his chest, ripping Dean's breath from him. While Dean scrambled away trying to catch his breath he kicked his brain into overdrive, _They must succumb, must succumb, the mixed blood, the other passages talked about a shared hate. Oh hell.. _That was in response both to what he just realized as well as Dean standing back up. The cadence of the chant had changed and he swore Dean's eyes flickered to black and then back. What he was sure of was the change in his brother's posture. The almost animal like rage had turned cold and silent.

"Sam, I should have let you burn in that house, I despise you."

_He sounds like Cain. _Dean moved, completely derailing his weakening hold on logic due to the unprecedented speed of his attack. His ritual fueled hate broke free, "Yeah? Well I should have sent you back to Hell!"

He barely managed to keep track of the attacks Dean pummeled him with. He'd felt several more blade strikes land and had scored Dean's face and chest with more hits but they'd always manage to move at the last minute or block the hits just enough to keep anything fatal from landing. Some small, fragile thread of logic trickled into his rage fueled mind. _It's like we're stopping just short of..._

Concrete slammed into his back and head, making him see stars and gasp for air, then Dean landed on top of him.

"Always thinking aren't you?" Dean taunted as he drove a knee into his chest and pushed down, "Never seeing what's right in front of you. Did you think I'd just ignore the fact that you left me to rot in Hell for thirty years, didn't even look for me in Purgatory? After everything I did for you, "Protect Sammy, save him.." I am so sick of living those words.

He couldn't breathe and struggled to throw Dean off of him but Dean's other knee slammed onto his right arm, making him drop his blade and effectively pinning him to the ground.

"Funny isn't it?" Dean offhandedly asked, "In a way I'm still following Dad's orders. He did tell me to kill you after all."

The candles flickered off of Cain's blade as it shot towards him. He brought his left arm up in a feeble attempt to block which Dean just powered through and he felt the point of the blade pierce his chest when Dean's whole posture changed.

"No!" Dean screamed then wrapped both hands around the hilt and drove it into his own stomach instead.


	17. Love To Hate

Dean toppled to the side. He swarmed over his brother, reversing their positions in mere seconds. "You just can't follow through can you?" He snarled, "Never could, that's why your life is like this Dean. You can never commit to doing anything but destroying yourself. You're such a coward, that's why you never left hunting. It wasn't my fault, it's because you're too damn scared to try to live your own life. Well, now you won't have to and I'll finally be rid of you!"

The candles glistened off of his blade as he stared down into Dean's feral eyes, what little rationality had been there was gone. The hate was pouring off both of them. _Why am I hesitating? This is what I want! Free of his bullshit, of hunting, of all of it. This... _A dull, pulsing orange light caught his eye, the Mark was starting to glow. His mind cleared for the briefest of moments and the passages of the ritual raced through it.

_"And the Lost One must give himself over to the evil, and his kin must be willing to be sacrificed for the Lost One's choice to hold power over the Taint. For only when their bond is at it's strongest while being at it's weakest will the Taint show itself to them."_

_"The Lost One shall be stripped of his humanity, for only when he stares into the darkness of the Taint will he be able to extinguish it. The Sacrifice's blood must be mixed with the blood of the Lost One when the Taint is at it peak. They must succumb to the Taint together, for it feeds on the strength of their wills._

_They must share the Taint to defeat it. The Taint cannot succeed by only breaking the bond in one brother, it must break it in both. For only then is the Giver's will truly able to flow through the Mark and triumph. As the bonds begin to shatter they must withstand the onslaught, their shared hate must be returned to love or they will be lost. _

_The taint is something specific, _he realized,_ it's not just the Mark, it's whatever he felt when he stabbed Cain. Mixed blood, that spell that seemed out of place that Cas pointed out to me. It referred to some sort of alternate world and we discarded it because there was no other reference. Now it makes sense! _Keeping the blade at Dean't throat, just in case, he used his other hand to smear some of his blood over Dean's stomach wound and recited the words he'd poured over for hours during the last few days.

He was no longer surrounded by candles, kneeling over his brother with a blade at his throat, he was in some endless space with hundreds of Dean's screaming:

"Kill him!"

"He's worthless!"

"You're just an attack dog, do your job! You don't need him!"

"This is what Dad really wanted, he was just too much of a coward to do it himself!"

"You were always the stronger son, now prove it!"

"Is he right? Are you a coward? Prove his weak ass wrong!"

It was deafening, he tried to cover his ears but it didn't make any difference. Doing his best to ignore the tumultuous cacophony of words and phrases spiraling around him he looked around. All the Deans were looking in the same direction, towards a house he recognized and a scene that he didn't remember but he'd been told about countless times. "Oh God, no, no..."

He started running, a blade manifested in his hand and without any hesitation he drove it through two of the nearest screaming Deans. Instead of them disappearing as he hoped they would they simply split into two, doubling their number and exponentially increasing the volume of hate that filled the air. _"What the? I don't understand..."_ He slowed and starting walking through the first rank of Deans, none of them took note of him, just endlessly repeated why Dean should kill him. "_Attacking them just makes it worse. That won't help, there's a different answer here._ _Are these just some sort of construct? Wait, Cas said the Mark was affecting him on the deepest levels, these are his, no wait, it's thoughts. Is this the Taint? No, that doesn't feel right. We're supposed to succumb to make the Taint show itself. It, not them. These are a symptom, the Taint's weapons, not it. Figure it out!_

He walked through rank upon near endless rank of Dean's hurtling hate towards the smoking house that seemed to be at the center of the battle for Dean's soul.

"He's never loved you, why do you put up with it?"

"He left you to burn then slept with the enemy. He loved Ruby more than you. A demon whore. Ungrateful wretch that he is."

The closer he got to the house the more sinister the voices got.

"All those hours he sleeps, so much time to do what you want. Maybe you can show him what you learned in Hell. Alastair was an excellent teacher, said you were his favorite. Remember that?"

"Do it, throw him back inside."

When he finally broke through the last rank the true horror of that last statement became clear. There was four year old Dean, gripping an infant tightly to his chest, tears streaming down his eyes as he inched ever closer to the flames engulfing the house, his little face twisted with agony,"Protect Sam, save Sam, protect him, protect him," he repeated over and over in an effort to ward away the evil around him. "Don't do this...no, no. Dad said protect him, that's my job. He's my brother, can't..let..him...be...hurt...he's family." There were various blood covered weapons scattered on the ground around him, evidence of battles he'd try to fight with no better result than increasing the number of enemies that surrounded him.

_It's not about fighting at all. I get it._ He reached down and placed his hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Protect Sam, save him.." Dean repeated a few more times until he squeezed his shoulder even tighter. He stopped speaking but still didn't seem to acknowledge his presence.

He bent over and put his mouth right next to Dean's ear in hopes that he would hear him over the din of voices. "Dean, hey, I'm right here. Turn around."

Dean started to shake his head, "Can't, can't look at them. Can't kill them, can't stop them." His left leg slid forward towards the flames and the corner of the baby blanket started to burn. "Can't..."

"Hold on, I got you." He gently picked the four year old version of Dean up as Dean cradled the six month old version of him to his chest then stepped back from the flames just as they leapt towards them in a last attempt to devour the brothers. "Oh hell no!" He snarled as he twisted Dean away from the fire. "Back off." The flames twitched angrily and receded. "Okay Dean, you have to trust me on this. We have to face them, just listen to me, not them."

Dean bobbed his head, then tucked it tight against his chest, "Save Sam, one last fight, one last..." his words trailed off into a whisper.

He took a deep breath then faced the hordes of screaming Deans, as soon as he did their words changed.

"Kill him Sam. His neck is right there, just break it."

"Remember the insane asylum? Remember his lies? He called you a freak and he meant it."

"He's always hated you."

Deafening levels of hate rose inside of him but he rode them out by telling Dean stories about things they'd done together, places they'd seen. His experience with overriding Lucifer and expelling Gadreel giving him an edge in the middle of the maelstrom that Dean didn't have. He knew he could fight these things, he could separate out his real feelings from what they were trying to impose on him. He told Dean stories of stupid things, little things, things that only brothers would understand. Every sentence started out with, "Remember when.." and bit by bit Dean started to respond. At first it was just slight nods, longer pauses in between the endless repetitions of "Save Sam, protect Sam," then he started adding comments, telling his own stories.

The voices around them started to fade ever so slightly, Dean finally opened his eyes and looked around. "There's less of them. I can do this, keep you safe."

"Still too many," Another jolt of imposed hate assaulted him and he hissed, "Damn it."

"Sam?"

"Stop thinking so much about saving me, that's what he's pulling on. I've got you, I'm safe. Keep telling stories. With both of us here he can't twist them like he did when it was just you. He's attacking me because I'm sort of shielding you from his shit."

"Got it. Hey remember when.." Dean took over telling stories and the shrieking increased again, they could barely hear each other but that wasn't the point. He kept his arms locked around the younger version of his older brother who refused to let go of the younger version of himself and weathered the storm until it was suddenly silenced.

"Is it over?" Dean asked.

"Like it'd be that easy. See? Right on time."

A desiccated, orange eyed, leathery skinned, almost skeletal version of Cain took the place of the hundreds of Dean. He held the First Blade in his hand as he stepped towards them, "It has been centuries since I have had a new host," his voice fell somewhere between sand scraping along rock and the sinking feeling of utter desolation, "And perhaps even longer since I came across one so strong, with bonds such as yours. You have fought well Winchesters but Dean is mine."

"You know," Dean's voice came from beside him and was in a much lower register than the four year old version. He looked down and saw his arms were empty, then looked to the right and saw Dean standing there, shirtless, barefoot and covered in the bloody sigils the ritual required. "I've never been one for letting people, or things, claim me. You should have asked Michael how that turned out for him."

Cain snarled, "The betrayer Michael. He is mere filth, a wretched tool that refused to do what a brother should, protect his kin. Just as Sam will soon betray you Dean, he plots it. This ritual wasn't designed to save you, it was designed to bring me to you, to make you my host. Take the Blade Dean, take your rightful power and strike him down." Cain reversed his hold on the Blade and stretched out his arm.

"Yeah, no," Dean replied, "I got the only blade I need right here." The Mark began to pulse and grow larger. In between one breath and the next a fiery, orange, three hooked blade appeared in Dean's hand. "Give me your arm Sam."

He hesitated and whispers filled his mind.

"He's a liar, liar..."

"Sam? Do you trust me? This is the only thing that can kill him, not the First Blade. The Blade is merely a focus for him. I've been up close and personal with this thing for months. You have to believe me."

_Shared hate, shared Taint, we must succumb, their bond is the strongest when it's weakest. The monster's gone from his eyes. This is him, not the Mark talking. I asked him for one last fight. He gave it, now I have to. _

He extended his arm, Dean took hold of it with his right hand, "This is gonna hurt."

Searing pain shot up his arm as lines of power wreathed around Dean's hand and up onto his arm etching a carbon copy of the Mark into his skin. The pain lasted for a timeless moment, then was swallowed up by the rush of strength and power he felt that was quickly drowned out by an indescribable urge to destroy every living thing around him.

"Focus!" Dean snarled, "Take control, use it, don't let it use you."

Somehow he instantly understood, as if Dean's thoughts were his own. He let go of Dean's arm, turned his palm up and a matching fiery three hooked blade appeared in his hand. The Mark made physical, and it was screaming for death.

Cain's skeletal face showed the first hint of fear and the First Blade stretched into a curved staff. "I shall claim both of you then."

"I've been possessed by two angels," he spat out, "Been poisoned with demon blood, Dean was a demon and I brought his ass back. If you think I'm going to let some archaic curse take me out after all that you have no idea who you're dealing with."

He and Dean lunged towards Cain at the exact same moment, Cain blocked their attack but was forced back a step.

"I spent thirty years in Hell and a year in Purgatory, bastard. I turned down Michael and have held you at bay for almost a year. I ain't rollin' over for a walking corpse anytime soon."

"I am no walking corpse," Cain shot back, "I am Lucifer's bane!" The staff flew towards them, "I am the first curse, I am the Taint that destroyed Paradise and I shall not be refused!"


	18. The Most Powerful Force

He ducked the spinning staff as Dean sidestepped Cain and brought his blade down along Cain's ribs. Instead of blood pouring from Cain's wounds, coppery colored light trickled down his side as he hissed.

"How many centuries has it been since you got your ass kicked?" Dean asked.

Somehow he knew what Dean's next move without Dean even saying a word, he took his own blade and aimed it at Cain's throat just as Dean changed the angle of his blade on the return swing and etched a rather large X into Cain's left side. Cain ignored Dean's hit and the staff blocked what would have been a fatal thrust. Then the end of Cain's staff slammed onto his shoulder almost making him drop his blade.

Cain continued his spin and the curved end of this staff dug deep into Dean's shoulder, wrenching a scream from Dean's throat. "I said you were strong Dean," Cain taunted, "Not smart or all that skilled. That you get from me boy."

Cain's back was to him as he yanked the blade out of Dean's shoulder. He took the opportunity to hurl his blade into the middle of Cain's back. He'd put so much force behind his throw that the first two hooks sank almost all the way into Cain's flesh.

Cain's head flew back, his mouth agape and his scream reminded them of a whole pack of hellhounds. He kicked Dean in the chest, sending him flying and then used his staff to dislodge the blade from his back. Cain spun around to face him, cocked his arm back and threw the staff at him. He dodged but the staff clipped his chest and sent him soaring through the air into the flames of their old house.

He heard Dean scream his name but the flames didn't touch him, he didn't feel the heat. What he did feel was a throbbing coming from the symbols on his chest as another blade appeared in his hand.

_We're taking this bastard out now! _Dean's voice filled his mind. He looked across the open space and the force of Dean's gaze when he met his eyes caused a titanic shift within him. The lingering traces of doubt and hate Cain had tried to sow between them crumbled and fell away. Dean's chest glowed red from the light racing through the markings that Dig had so painstakingly drawn. A whole series of attacks flitted through his mind, he didn't even have to reply because as soon as he saw Dean moving he moved.

They moved fast and in perfect unison. Cain was facing him, so he feinted to the right to give Dean the perfect shot he needed. Cain realized what was coming but it was a second too late. Their Mark fueled accuracy and power catching Cain completely off guard. Dean aimed high and he aimed low, severing Cain's head and piercing his heart at the exact same moment.

Dean dropped his blade, grabbed the Mark, crumpled to his knees and started convulsing.

He went flying back and his world went black.

"Sam! Dean!" Cas's voice invaded the blackness and brought his awareness to the fact that he was back in his own mind and body. He opened his eyes just as he felt a sharp tug on his left arm and he saw Dean on the ground, his back arched in pain and right arm almost fully engulfed by the hellish light of the Mark. The light started to swirl just above Dean's arm, making his scream hit ever higher registers.

He looked at Cas, "Now Cas!"

Cas's left hand reached into his coat as his right grabbed a jar filled with Holy Water. When his left hand reappeared it held the First Blade and he rushed towards Dean, eyes filled with angelic power. He thrust the Blade into the light pouring from Dean's arm and started to speak in a mix of Enochian and Sumerian, his tone commanding and completely dominating the room.

The light spun and swirled, fighting against the command in Cas's voice but bit by bit it crept up into the Blade. Slowly at first but faster and faster as Cas repeated the chant. As the light rose into the Blade the Mark on Dean's arm began to fade, then it suddenly halted and Cas's face twisted with effort.

"You. Shall. Not. Have. Him." White light burst from the angel's body, wreathing him in Heavenly fire, "If it is the last thing I do, if it costs me the last of my Grace I shall save Dean Winchester."

Dean's eyes flew open and he and the angel locked eyes, then Enochian and Sumerian came from both their mouths. A hideous growl rose from the pool of light but with the addition of Dean's voice it was forced upward, ever faster, into the Blade.

The Mark was nearly gone, then with a last vengeful flash of angry brilliance the light vanished along with the Mark. Cas shoved the First Blade into the jar of Holy Water causing steam to billow and hiss as the water boiled. "Roy!" Cas snapped, "The box."

Roy slid an iron box which was etched with numerous holy symbols across the floor. Cas caught it and dumped both the water and Blade into the box, slammed the lid down and locked it.

Dean was panting, so was he. Something tugged at his arm again and he finally realized there was a handcuff on his arm. His brain was so overwhelmed and tired he had to force his eyes to follow the chain and discovered that it ended at a cuff that was around Dean's left wrist.

"Hey," he tugged back, drawing Dean's attention to the cuffs.

Dean looked down, then looked back up at Cas, "Please tell me there's a non kinky reason that we're cuffed together."

"I think it says something rather profound about you that no matter how horrible the situation is that we save you from your mind immediately goes to a sexual reference," Cas noted as a smile slowly worked it's way across his face.

"It says that as long as he's human and him, no matter what goes on in Dean's upper brain, the lower brain will always win out in the end. Think we can get rid of these Cas?" He asked as he took a quick look at his right arm which was completely bare of any Mark and looked completely normal.

"Of course Sam," Cas replied as he pulled the key out of his pocket and unlocked the cuffs, then healed all their various wounds but neither of them felt like moving.

"Hey Oliver?" Dean asked.

"Yes?"

"Any chance you have a couple of fishing poles stashed away somewhere?"

Oliver shot him a confused look, "Fishing poles? Uh, there might be one or two in the garage. Why?"

"Well, once Sam and I feel like moving again I was thinking we could try our luck."

He took a long look at his brother, there was no hint of the Mark left in Dean's eyes and the smile on his face wasn't forced. It was filled with relief and all him. "I'm down for that."

(one more chapter left I think folks)


	19. Healing

"So about the cuffs?" Dean asked as they tried to recuperate.

"You...your arm...what? You guys almost killed each other..." Roy stammered. "What did I just see?"

He looked at the young man who hours ago was completely unfazed by using blood as fingerpaint. All the color had drained from his face, which the completely black attire highlighted even more, he was shaking and his eyes were wide with fear.

Dig put his arm around Roy's shoulder, "Let's get some air. They'll explain later I'm sure."

Roy nodded although his eyes stayed fixed onto Dean until Dig physically turned him around and guided him out of the basement.

"I think I'll join them," Felicity added. She looked slightly better off then Roy but not by much.

Oliver watched her go, then looked back at he and Dean.

"Oh, just go Oliver," he said, "One day you'll get around to accepting what's right in front of you. We're fine. Make sure she's all right."

"I can't do what..."

"Oliver," Dean snapped. "She doesn't seem to care, she's in danger anyway but she's stuck it out this long. She's come this far, maybe you should go the rest of the way. She called us to come save your ass, not Dig, not Roy. She did. She wasn't about to let you go die somewhere. Think maybe she deserves something for that? We do. Look, I'm just as stubborn as you. We both know that, and I'm the one telling you to try to have something normal in your life. Take that as a hint."

Oliver didn't reply, but he did follow Felicity.

"God, it's like high school!" Dean grumbled. "All right Cas, fill us in on how bad things got while Sam and I were off having really awkward family moments. Which we are never, ever telling anyone about. Got that Sam."

He tried to keep the smile off his face but couldn't quite manage it, "Of course, my lips are sealed."

Dean glared at him, rolled his eyes and focused back on Cas's face.

Cas settled on the ground next to them, pulled his coat closer to him and eyed the iron box as if waiting for the Blade to jump out of it somehow. "Well, after you stabbed yourself in your stomach and Sam made the connection about the spell fragments, excellent job by the way Sam, you both went into convulsions for about a minute then went completely still. The others panicked but I knew you were still alive so I restrained them from interfering. It wasn't until we saw the Mark glow not only on your arm Dean but also on Sam's that I became concerned. Well that along with the large amount of violent words that started coming from each of you right around that moment. When I was researching the spell I realized that there might come a time where I would have to restrain one or both of you so I had Diggle procure restraints and modified them into a rough version of the demon suppressing cuffs you have in the Bunker. We cuffed you to each other as a way of slowing your movements, took your weapons and wished for the best. You then started jerking and moving around, I would imagine that was during whatever final conflict you were having occurred then Sam was back.

My question for you Dean is how did you know the ritual I used at the end to pull the rest of the curse from you? Sam and I purposely hid that from you as a safety precaution and it wasn't in the ritual Felicity printed out. It was something Sam and I came up with when I pointed out that it was entirely likely the energy for the Mark would look for some new host upon being expelled from you. We took a, pardon the pun, leap of faith and hoped that the link between the First Blade and the Mark would be such that we could use the Blade as a holding vessel for the Mark."

"I'm not sure," Dean said as he pondered Cas's words, "I was, where ever Sam and I had just been, somewhere in my head and the pain of that damn thing leaving me was making me wish I was back on Alastair's rack. I didn't have anything left to give anymore, it was close guys, it really was." He shuddered and took a deep breath, "Then all that went away and I heard your voice Cas, I heard what you said, how if it was the last thing you'd do you'd save my ass and the words just came to me. I knew what I had to do. Maybe it was because Sam and I were sharing brains for awhile, I don't know." He slowly sat up and grabbed Cas's arm, "Thanks by the way."

"Of course," Cas replied. "Sam? Why did the Mark appear on your arm?"

"The ritual was quite literal about the shared taint thing." Although he knew it was gone and they were both safe a faint taste of that hate came back to him, twisting his stomach into knots, "Like Dean said, it got pretty dicey there."

Cas's eyes flicked back and forth between the two of them and whatever further questions he had he chose not to ask. "Well, I am glad you managed to pull through, both of you. Would you like me to help you get up or do you need to rest more?"

"Rest is in order, but a shower is much more important," Dean looked down at his chest, "I want to get this crap off me." His now Mark free forearm caught his eye and he ran his hand over where the Mark used to be. "It's gone," he whispered, "It's really gone."

"Yes Dean," Cas softly stated, "It is."

He moved closer to his brother and put his arm around his shoulders, "About damn time too."

"I...I..." Words escaped him, but then they weren't really needed. Dean pulled him close and everything he couldn't say was brimming in his green eyes. Mixed in with relief there was joy and a sense of disbelief that he and Sam had pulled off the impossible.

"Don't look so surprised," he said, "Cas and I are becoming quite adept at finding hidden spells that pull you back from the edge of evil. It's kind of our thing now. Vampires and spirits were getting boring and you know I like a research challenge."

Dean started laughing and the tears that had been pooling in his eyes started flowing down his cheeks, "See it as my way of apologizing for robbing you of an Ivy League education."

That made him laugh and Cas even joined in with a slight chuckle. The laughter went on for several minutes, chasing away the horrors they'd been through over the last few months, until they were gasping for air. "Okay, okay," Dean finally said in between chuckles, "Let's go get cleaned up, then come back down and mop this place up. Oliver has enough on his plate without having to deal with a blood covered basement floor."

Cas stood up, extended a hand to each of them and helped them stand.

"Damn! I feel like I've been six rounds with an alpha vamp," Dean muttered.

"I healed your wounds," Cas said, looking slightly concerned.

"It's not that," he added, "Just tired and sore. Nothing a hot shower and sleep won't handle."

Cas nodded, "Ah, I see. You rest, I'll clean up."

"Don't forget to use bleach," Dean suggested, Cas raised an eyebrow and held his hand out over a small patch of blood on the floor. It disappeared as they watched.

Dean pointed at Cas, "Oh, well that works too. Right. Shower, bed."

They slowly walked up the stairs leaving Cas to handle the cleanup. They spotted Roy and they rest sitting outside on the side porch, glasses in hand and various bottles of alcohol scattered on the table.

"Think they'll let us slide without an explanation?" Dean asked as they turned down the hall towards their rooms.

"Probably but they deserve to have some sort of understanding of what went on," he answered, "They put a hell of a lot of trust in us."

"Yeah, good point," Dean admitted, "See you when I wake up in a week."

"Sounds good," he turned to go into his room, grab some fresh clothes and head to the bathroom when Dean stopped him.

"Sam, what happened back _there..."_

"Don't worry about it."

Dean shook his head and became serious, "No, when we're caught up on sleep, I want to talk about it."

He almost fell over, "You want to talk about it? Why?"

"Because we both know the things that got said, they weren't just things the Mark made up. That and," He looked away and emotions he couldn't put a name to warred across Dean's face, "...and what you did, pulling me or rather us pretty much out of the flames. I don't know how to..."

He understood then, Dean wasn't at all used to being the one that was vulnerable. "Sure, we've got time and this is a good place for it. We can hit the dock, toss in some lines and take a break."

A nervous look of relief crossed Dean's face, "I'd hug you but, eww, blood and stuff."

He just laughed and watched Dean go into his room and shut the door. _I think I'll just dub this place the Winchester Retreat and Recovery Center. Seems like we tend to end up here when things are at their worst. _He followed Dean's example by taking a long, badly needed shower and falling into bed.

It was dark outside when he woke up, _What time is it? _He looked at his watch which told him it was four in the morning. _We passed out around six last night, almost twelve hours and I feel like I could use another six. I don't want to get my days and nights totally turned around though and I'm kind of hungry. Cas is probably lurking around somewhere. Guess I'll go find him if Dean's not up yet. _

He got out of bed, changed into jeans and a long sleeved shirt since the air was a bit crisp and made his way into the kitchen to scrounge some food and coffee.

"Hello Sam," Cas's voice came from the darkness of the living room that adjoined the kitchen.

"Hey Cas, you can turn a light on you know. Unless you're trying to scare someone that is."

"Not at all," Cas said as he moved into the light that came from the kitchen, "Just enjoying the first sense of peace I've had in several years. The Mark is gone, there is no crisis in Heaven, no pressing problems, I even turned off angel radio to truly indulge myself." A sly grin danced across his face, lightening his normally serious, piercing eyes. "I've checked in on Dean a few times, no nightmares. He's sleeping soundly."

Those words juggled something loose inside of him, months of fear and frustration slipped away causing him to lean against the cabinets, "It's actually over. We did it," Dean wasn't there, he didn't have to worry about supporting him any longer. "It was so close Cas, so close. We almost lost him, lost us." Cas's hand steadied him as the emotional tidal wave of his worst fears that he'd kept at bay so long rushed through him, an ocean of things he'd refused to think could happen hit him. He let them come, after what they'd just gone through, holding things back seemed pointless. He had nothing to prove, no one to be strong for in this moment. Cas didn't say a word, just kept his hand on his arm until the worst of it had past. "Thanks."

"Sit, I'll get your coffee and make a sandwich. I'd offer to cook but we both know how that would turn out."

A few minutes after he sat down a cup of coffee and a plate with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich got placed in front of him. "For some reason that strikes me as the perfect four in the morning snack," he told Cas.

"I've always thought so," Cas replied. They sat in silence while he ate.

"I smell coffee," Dean's voice accompanied the padding of almost silent feet coming down the hall. As Dean crossed behind him he felt a strong hand grip his shoulder. "Mornin' ish. What's for breakfast?"

"Cas made me his specialty," he answered. _He's back, three days ago he couldn't bear to look at me, much less touch me the hate was so strong. As soon as I see Felicity I am tackle hugging her and I don't give a crap what Oliver thinks about it. _

"PBJ and coffee huh? That's a snack. I need real food."

Fifteen minutes later Dean was serving up pancakes, bacon and hash browns and eating like a man who'd been on a starvation diet. They gave Cas a much more detailed description about what happened during the ritual, what they went through and the angel took it all in with minimal comment until they finished.

"I think it's best if I take full possession of the Blade," Cas informed them. "I know that the Bunker has vaults but it could still call to you, both of you."

"I'm fine with that," Dean stated, "I never want to see the damned thing again anyway. I don't even want to know it's on the same planet that I am to be honest."

"I'm with him."

Cas nodded, "Good, I should leave then." He stood up then paused, "After I dispose of the Blade I think I will look in on Claire. I've been picking up that she's upset about something but, well you know how stubborn she is. I know my presence isn't that great of a comfort to her but I'm all the family she has left, even if I am just parading around in her father's image." Bitterness and a deep sense of guilt crept into Cas's eyes.

He and Dean looked at each other, "You know our motto Cas," Dean said, "Just keep trying. She'll come around eventually. Just be yourself, don't try to be something you're not."

"Be a friend, be there to listen to her," he added. "That's one thing you've always been good at, listening. That's what she needs. Not a father, not a role model, but a friend. She needs someone she can rely on, that she can believe in. Sounds like what an angel should be don't you think?"

Some of the guilt faded as Cas pondered what they'd said, "Yes indeed, that is exactly what an angel is supposed to be. Thank you."

"No problem." Dean said with a shrug and a smile, "That's what we're here for. Drive safe. We'll tell Oliver and the gang you said bye."

He turned and left without another word, already focused on Claire on her struggles.

"Huh, he was just saying how he was enjoying not being in the middle of a crisis," he pointed out.

"Sam, no matter how long Cas stays down here, he's always going to be just a little bit off. Wouldn't want him any other way though."

An awkward silence filled the air and early morning sunlight started filtering through the windows. "Up for a walk?" Dean asked.

"Sure."


	20. Much Needed Rest

They pulled on their boots and coats and let the still, quiet, cold fall air embrace them as they stepped out of the house and walked down the path that wandered around the lake. There was a low fog obscuring anything beyond twenty or thirty feet that swirled around them as they walked. The birdsong seemed muted by the fog, a deer leapt across the path in front of them startling both them and the deer but beyond that only the lapping of the lake as it moved back and forth across the shoreline provided any sound at all. They were halfway around the lake before Dean spoke, his voice soft as if he didn't want to disturb the creatures around them, "What it found inside of me to twist me that far, make me despise you, wish you were dead. They were all already there Sam, it just made them worse."

"That's what it does, it doesn't.."

"Sam, when I came back from Purgatory and found out you hadn't even been looking for me, I wanted to beat the hell out of you and leave you for dead. Until Benny decided to help me out the only thought that kept me going was I had to be alive when you found me. I couldn't let you down."

"Dean, I.."

Dean stopped walking but there was no accusation in his voice or his face as he continued to speak. "Let me finish, I stewed on that for weeks. All I could think about was how you'd let me down, I couldn't, no, wouldn't understand why. It was the same thing with Ruby although I didn't hold it against you that you didn't bust me out. It was my choice and I knew we had both fought tooth and nail to try to stop it. Then the Trials came up and, well I just sort of pushed the whole Purgatory thing out of my mind. You'd taken on the Trials, you thought it was purifying you somehow then in the church when I found out what you'd confessed, well Purgatory didn't matter anymore, or so I thought. Then the Mark started picking apart my brain and that was one of the first things it went for. I never thought about how that day I got sucked into Purgatory looked from your side. I was gone, so was Cas, Crowley'd nabbed Kevin, Bobby was dead, his house torched. You would have had no idea that I got sucked into anything or anywhere, for all you knew I just exploded. Everything you knew was gone, what the hell else were you supposed to do?"

"I appreciate the empathy but if roles had been reversed..."

Dean interrupted him again, "I would have done something extreme and made things worse, Gadreel being a perfect example. You were right about how I've done nothing but tried to destroy my life these last few years, how I'm scared to live normal, leave hunting. It's not really fear though." He resumed walking, "I wasn't afraid to love Lisa or Ben, I was afraid of what might happen true, what I would bring to their lives. When I was with them, living normal, I could never relax like you somehow managed to do at school. I had to watch what I said, what I did.."

"So did I,"

"Yeah but somehow you pulled it off and enjoyed it. I hated it. I wasn't in control of anything, I didn't understand the stupidest things like paying bills on time, checking accounts. All that crap we don't deal with but that's not what ate at me the most," he paused again. "What did was how unattached I felt to them, the people I met, even Lisa and Ben in a a way. They didn't understand me like you and Cas do, like Bobby did, hell even Oliver has a better idea of who I am then Lisa ever did. Maybe it was easier for you because you were younger I don't know. That whole "normal" world seemed so full of people who had no clue about the people in their lives. I couldn't trust them to have my back Sam, not like you. So when the Purgatory thing happened, I just, something broke inside. Probably like you with the Gadreel thing."

"Yeah, something did break."

Dean nodded, "We moved past it, but we never really did, did we?"

"No."

"The whole time I was fighting the Mark, every time I told myself that I had to protect you it threw Purgatory at me, Ruby, it used those things to fuck up every good memory I have of us. After Purgatory I felt like we, well we were just like the normal people, having no idea of who the other person is but acting like we still cared."

This time he was the one that stopped walking, Dean's words cutting to the core of all the unspoken tension between them.

"Then you showed up in my head," Dean continued, "that had to be the most awkward, wierdest thing in our lives to date by the way, but still you didn't hesitate. You.." he hesitated, uncomfortable with the memory of the how vulnerable he'd been, "you took care of me, like you've been trying to do since the start of this whole stupid Mark thing. I was just too damn stubborn to let you most of the time. Anyway, when we faced off all the screaming versions of me, remembering all the good times, it hit me, how stupid I'd been holding that against you. All the crap I gave you after, then getting pissed at you when you weren't willing to forgive Gadreel, like I deserved some sort of special pass for lying to you because I saved your life. I don't know, I guess I have a hero complex."

"Maybe a little," he quipped.

"Thanks," Dean sourly replied, "Anyway, I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm sorry, not just for giving you crap about Purgatory, or the demon blood or everything else I've held over your head." He turned so they were looking straight at each other, "I'm sorry for doubting you, for thinking you'd left me just to go be with some chick because I know that's not true. I'm sorry for choosing to not see what you'd gone through that day."

The look on Dean's face reminded him so much of that night in the church at the last trial, when Dean was begging him to understand how much he needed him and how proud of him he really was. This time was different though, in the silence of the predawn air, without the fate of the world on their shoulders, all that mattered was the stark, soul baring, honest truth of Dean's words and how they completely destroyed the remains of the seeds of doubt, hate and anger that Cain had tried to use against them.

_I never saw that coming, not in a million years. I have no clue what to say that won't trivialize what just happened...no wait. Yeah I do. _

"Gadreel? Forgiven, not because you deserve some special pass for saving my life but because when I saw you clinging on to me for dear life when you had nothing else left to hold onto I got it. Why there was no other choice for you to make. But Dean, you've got to learn how to let go at some point. You can't keep throwing yourself onto the fire to save me, one day there will be something that we can't fix."

Dean bowed his head, "I know. That's the other thing I wanted to tell you." When he looked back up he saw the titanic struggle that the next words were causing him. "I'm going to try, really damn hard, to not make desperate moves like that, or the Mark, ever again. This was too close Sammy, too close to destroying both of us and for what? Heaven still got destroyed, the only thing I stopped was Abaddon taking over Hell and we could have dealt with her a different way. Hell we'd already neutralized her."

"How about this?" He knew how hard that'd been for Dean to say, much less even contemplate, "We both stop trying to play the hero, I do it too. How about we go back to basics but this time around we don't hide things, we work out our plans in advance and agree on the moves we make. Sound good?"

He hadn't known how much he'd missed Dean's actual smiles till he saw the one that broke out on Dean's face, easy, relaxed and with no hidden monsters lurking around the edges. "Yeah, sounds good.

They stared at each other for a moment longer then Dean finally did the one thing that cleared up any remaining doubt that the Mark was gone or that there was any lingering tension left. He took a step closer and engulfed him in hug.

_We've got this, we really do. _He thought as he returned the embrace.

They parted and walked back to the house with their arms around each other's shoulders. When they opened the door, smiles on their faces and relaxed, they spotted Felicity with her back turned to them. She was still half asleep, her hair barely tied back and slowly shuffling into the kitchen. He'd remembered how much she was not a morning person and it appeared she hadn't even had coffee yet. He let go of Dean's shoulders, dashed across the floor and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Gah!" She blurted as she spun around.

He didn't say a word just threw his arms around her, pinning her arms to her side and lifted her about three feet off the floor. "Thank you so much!" Then he squeezed as tight as he dared.

Her eyes were still blurry but quickly clearing up as she managed to focus on his face, "Eep! Sam! Can't breathe...need ribs."

He kissed her on the cheek and set her back down. "What the?" She sputtered but had no time to recover as Dean came up beside him, picked her up, spun her around once, kissed her other cheek and grinned.

"What Sam said."

"Oh dear Go..."

Not to be outdone, Oliver, who'd been lurking in the hallway watching the proceedings, slid up beside her, took hold of her waist and back, dipped her down and planted a quick kiss on her lips.

"What was that for?" She breathlessly asked.

"I couldn't let them have all the fun," Oliver replied with a playful grin.

"Uh, too much hotne...coffee, yeah coffee. And cream, in my..coffee..not anything..." She stammered, face flaming red, "So much...sugar...for coffee. Oh wow..." She managed to turn away from them and fumble her way across the kitchen and shakily fill a mug.

He and Dean caught Oliver's eye and all three of them busted out laughing. Felicity took a long swallow of her coffee then glared at them, "So not fair, I..just."

"Aww really? You didn't enjoy that just a little?" Oliver asked with the most endearing, innocent look possible on his face. He and Dean followed suit, staring her down with innocent faces.

"I..." Her prior glare disappeared into helpless laughter, "I hate all of you."

"Seriously Felicity," Dean said tone switching from playful to solemn, "If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't be here right now. Thank you."

She set her mug down, "Last night, I thought I wanted to know what all that was about, what you went through, but this morning I don't. I'm just glad I could help and you guys are all right. That's all that matters."

"It took me awhile to get to sleep last night," Oliver said and they noticed Felicity blushed again, "So I rummaged through the garage." He pointed to a corner of the living room, they turned and saw two fishing poles and a small tackle box sitting there. "You can get your own worms, I can't stand those things but there's lures and everything else you need in there I think."

"You don't like worms?" Felicity asked.

Oliver's face crunched up like he'd tasted something sour, "They're just so slimy and gross."

Dean shot his brother a devilish grin which he quickly tried to hide, "Well, we'll keep them out of the house."

_Oh no, here we go. _He chuckled and Oliver shot him a suspicious glare.

"What?"

Later that day they were down on the dock, casually holding onto their poles as their lines bobbed in the water, a cooler filled with beers next to their chairs and another small cooler for any fish they caught.

"His shoes Dean? Really?"

"Yup," Dean replied with a sigh as he took a sip of beer.

"I am not taking arrows in the back for you."

"He wouldn't shoot me.."

An arrow shot across the sky in front of them, slicing through both their poles, severing them neatly in two.

He looked up towards the house and saw Oliver on the deck, another arrow nocked. "It was Dean's idea! I had nothing to do with it."

Oliver said nothing as another arrow pierced Dean's beer can causing beer to explode out the sides.

"Um, I think you made him mad."

"f I find another worm anywhere in this house, my shoes, any of my belongings, the club or anything in the club the next arrow takes out your tires!" Oliver shouted.

Dean raised his hands in surrender, "Got it, you hate worms."

Oliver huffed, lowered the bow and went back inside.

"Sheesh, no sense of humor," Dean muttered. "Oh man! Look at that I just got a bite too."

He pulled another beer out of the cooler, handed it Dean and they pulled in the broken halves of the poles from the lake.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's take a break. Stay up here for a few weeks. Get new poles, Oliver won't mind. We'll even clean the place up a bit."

"Sure Dean, sounds good."

Dean opened up his new can of beer and raised it in a toast towards him, he clicked his can together with his brother's and they watched as the birds flew over the lake, no crisis driving them, no monsters on their mind, doing nothing but enjoying each other's company and taking a long overdue vacation.

-End


End file.
